Psychosis: Revelations
by panpipes
Summary: The Power of Three has been destroyed by the one true force capable of separating the Charmed Ones: themselves. Can they struggle on to fight another day, or will they succomb to the lethargy that has fallen over them, and the repercussions of failure?
1. Outdoor Swimming Pool

A/N: Heh I scared you all with the ending of that last one didn't I? There are so many unexplored plots and loose ends in that story I couldn't possibly end it at that! So here we are, sequelsville. You're going to notice a change in the way this one's written. Psychosis was very much in Piper's point of view and with a few chapters in the third person. That will change drastically in this story. Piper's first person POV will remain, but I'm going to introduce similar POV chapters for the other Charmed Ones. This is going to be even more of a "thinking" story - basically I'm gonna try to confuse you! It'll be very metaphorical and there won't be a lot of name mentioning, but hey, don't worry - you'll be fine. Besides, with all the sisters thinking erratically there's bound to be some confusion! There won't be a set structure, I'll just write whatever comes to me as it goes along and hopefully it'll turn out well! This story will also involve more action, so that coupled with the writing style change, is the reason I decided to sequel it rather than continue it as part of the old story. Hope I made the right choice.  
  
A/N: I really appreciated the reviews you gave me last time, and I'd love it if you could give me the same kind of support with this story - you guys know how insecure I am about these! Thank you. In particular I'd like to thank: Kit-the-misfit-Cat, Falcon, Wendigo Piper, SnOwBuNnY, Anonymous, Coleo, Charmed Writer, Heather and Jewel-Halliwell for your consistant reviews (some more than others) and help you gave me, and anybody else who reviewed me! Lol - especially Anonymous, actually, for sticking by me even when I didn't update for two months! That's dedication. And not on my part! So really, thank you all.   
  
A/N: Damn, I considered not putting this up, just to see what the drastic thing you were planning was Anonymous!  
  
A/N: Thanks Kit for the story title help. Couldn't decide what R word I wanted to use and she picked Revelations. Since she seems to be unnaturally right about things with this story, I'm going with it.  
  
A/N: Do you realise that these a/ns have probably surpassed the final chapter of Psychosis in length? That amuses me. Okay, enough chatter. Onto the story!  
  
One last A/N: This story is a sequel as you may have guessed. Read Psychosis in order for this to make more sense. Not that THAT story made a lot of sense but you know what I mean. And drop me a review or two... am dreaming of that big 200!  
  
  
  
Psychosis: Revelations  
  
  
  
  
Leo's intent on spoiling any fun I have. Honestly, I'm not even allowed to go swimming anymore! There I was, minding my own business when he blatantly dived into the water - in front of spectators - and orbed me right out!   
  
I was cold when we'd arrived in the manor, and leaves were clinging onto my hair. The water had been freezing, after all it is winter, but still, I thought pools were supposed to be room temperature. Wearing my clammy outfit, I'd thought about how narrow the pool edges had been, how I'd been surprised by the current that seemed to pull me through the water, and the feel of slimy plants growing at the muddy bottom.   
  
They should really take better care if they expect people to use it.  
  
When I'd jumped in the water, somebody had screamed. It was in the park, and I'd been walking past the water for a good long while. Trees dotted around it's banks and the dull grey day had added to it's appeal. It looked refreshing. How was I supposed to know the current coupled with the weeds at the bottom would pull me under?   
  
I could've handled it. Leo's just paranoid.  
  
Now he's towelling me off, his glistening eyes trying desperately to hold back the tears. I stand firmly and stare at the wall, fixing my attention onto anything but him. I want him to know how angry I am with him, but he doesn't seem to care.   
  
Picking the bits of twig and leaves off me, he let's out a shuddering sigh and walks me upstairs before stripping me naked and helping me into new clothes. I'm still cold, so he then leads me downstairs and into the living room where he waves his hand at the fire grate and little orbs appear over the wood, and flames are soon grabbing at the air.   
  
I stare at the orange light, mesmerised by it's dance of survival. Already the events of the day are behind me, slowly burning away with the logs on the fire into nothingness, into my mind's oblivion.   
  
Grimacing, I switch my vision to the window. Sitting on the corner of the couch, beside the fire, I can't see very far outside, but it's not what I'm searching for. I don't want to see outside, I don't want to be outside. I want to be inside. I want to be alert.  
  
I didn't notice that Leo had left until he walks back into the room with a mug of something. He hands me the drink and I smell the sweet aroma of chocolate tickle my senses. I always found this drink a disappointment. It smells so good and the concept is great, but the taste never really overjoyed me.   
  
Spilling a little onto my hand, my face remains blank even though I've been burned. Pain isn't something I really register much. Leo perches on the edge of the coffee table, watching me. He's silent for a while, then he speaks. "Do you think that what you did... was a good idea?" he asks me, his face serious and hardened.  
  
The hot chocolate, as predicted, disappoints me. Not only, but it also burns my tongue which adds insult to injury. Then I hear his words, as if they've been played back to me a minute or two after he's spoken. No matter. "I wanted to go for a swim," I firmly tell him. "What's so bad about that?"  
  
"It was a river, Piper," he quickly spits, his voice cracking with frustration. "You could've drowned."  
  
Ignoring him, I look down at the mug I cradle in my hands and watch the brown liquid swirl around unappealingly. Rocking my hands to make it move faster, I note with some bemusement how this liquid resembles that which I was encased in only a short while before.  
  
A sigh escapes Leo as he once again realises how futile his attempts to have proper conversation with me are. Half of his mouth tenses, as if he's chewing something, and he stares at me with a hardened look in his eye. But underneath this expression, I know he is soft, weak. He's barely there.   
  
He moistens his lips before reaching over and taking the mug of hot chocolate from my hands before grabbing my arms and pulling me to my feet. A moan of protest resonds from me; I don't feel like moving around just now. My body feels like it's seizing up from the strange feeling permeating through it.  
  
"God, Piper, you're freezing," he frowns. "Why didn't you tell me?" I shrug moodily and stare at the floor. He does that strange face again where he tenses up half of his face. "Come on, you're going to bed."  
  
Although I don't want to go to bed - I'll have nightmares - I somewhat reluctantly let myself be gently guided upstairs. What else has he guided me with? What other situation have I been in that I'd depended solely on him? Nothing springs to memory. Nothing ever springs to memory. Nothing useful, anyway.  
  
It's becoming more and more troublesome to recall good times I've spent with my husband. Whenever I think of him, all that clouds my mind's eye is images of him angry, or moody, or not even there at all.   
  
My marriage. Screw it. It's a total sham. A shambles. A sham... rock. I wonder what it'd be like to be a shamrock. I don't wonder for very long... it's not exactly the most exciting thing to ponder on, so thoughts soon turn to how I got into bed.  
  
Leo's not here anymore. He's abandoned me, as per. Probably off with Paige somewhere. I haven't seen her for days. Her whereabouts are a total mystery to me, although I seem to have the notion that Leo has informed me many a time, but, as I appear to be such a god damn inconvenience to him I tend not to listen.  
  
No one listens to anybody anymore.  
  
Everybody talks, but no one listens.  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Okay... out of the two chapters I've written so far (this and 2), the next one by far exceeds in terms of pp love! I can't wait to post it! But I while... mwa ha ha ha. 


	2. Personal Training

A/N: Thanks for the encouraging reviews guys. I've now got about two more chapters after this done but this one for me stands out as my favourite. Anonymous - am I underestimating you as a fan? You keep this amount of reviews up and I'll be at 100 in no time! I really appreciate it lol.  
  
  
  
  
Psychosis: Revelations  
  
  
  
Run faster. Push harder. Be better. Run faster. Push harder. Be better. Run faster. Push harder. Be better. Each word resonates the rhythm of my feet as they pound the sidewalk. Run faster. Push harder. Be better. Run faster. Push harder. Be better. I can run faster. I can push harder. I can be better.  
  
My clothes feel heavy and my sticky skin is hot and horrible. I tied my hair back into a ponytail but strands of it are tumbling down my cheeks and into my face, though I continually brush it behind my ears. People I pass stare at me as I run, clenched fists held just in front of my body, arms bent, breath bursting out of me, my feet slapping against the wet ground, hair plastered to my head. They peer out from under their umbrellas at the crazy woman out wearing rags in the storm.   
  
I'm wearing shorts and a cropped top. The cold doesn't bother me. The rain doesn't bother me. The wind doesn't bother me. Run faster. Push harder. Be better. They may not accept me. I may not accept me. But I will, as soon as I get rid of this gut and this unattractiveness that's followed me all my life. Just run and don't eat and lose weight and be beautiful.   
  
The last man who ever told me I was beautiful was drunk at the time. I think that says a lot about me. And because of those few words, that tiny compliment, yes, I slept with him. Am I a sucker or what? One night stand. One, that's me. I'm just a lost soul aren't I? Floating around, unsure of anything in my life, no relationships, no friends, I am one. Alone. Night, yes, admittedly that's my favourite time of day. When it's dark and people can't see me, can't see my body, my looks, they can't see my vulnerability. And I stand alone, though I'd rather crouch into the corner.  
  
Why do so many dogs look so sad? Sure they act happy and perky and cheery all the time, but if you ever catch them when they're alone, or thinking that no one's looking, their facial expressions are so much sadder than what you'd expect. They look desolate, depressed, undignified.   
  
Once an abusive ex-boyfriend tied a dog collar and leash around my neck and proceeded to sexually assault me for what felt like the entire night but couldn't have been more than an hour or two. Every time I defied him or tried to get away, he'd pull on the leash and choke me from behind. Even when I complied he'd do it at intervals, just to show me who's boss.   
  
I'd like to blame him for all that's wrong with me today. I'd like to blame a lot of things for how wrecked as a person I am. But deep down I know this all rests on me. It wasn't Jerry who beat up my sister Phoebe. It was me. Jerry is just a ghost from my past who I use to help alleviate my own self-loathing.  
  
Which can't go on for much longer. It can't go on for much longer before my mind turns in on itself and folds over, suffocating me in my revelation that nobody else is to blame for what I've become but me. Logic tells me all of these facts already, but I still don't properly believe it. My natural instinct is to hide from the hurting, and that's what I still automatically do. It's when I come out of hiding that will be the moment of truth.  
  
I can see my stomach when I look down, my ragged top covering my torso and hangs over one shoulder. The wind would ruffle it to no end if the rain hadn't already glued it to my skin. The material's a light pink, but the water has turned it red. The shorts which are also clinging to my thighs were a light green, now dyed dark. I look quite radical, a grown woman, jogging in the rain in the middle of winter. It's been particularly cold this year, almost impossibly so. I wonder if it's a sign of some sort, a warning. The times may be cold, but there is colder up ahead. The worst is yet to happen.  
  
Checking my rain-spattered watch, I slow down, wheezing and panting in air. My lungs, heart, chest, everything inside hurts and screams at me to stop. Eventually I do and lean slightly forward in order to help the cool air rush in and out of my body with more ease. I've been going for about twenty-five minutes at full pelt. Placing my hands on my hips, I lean right back and point my face into the sky, into the rain, and squeeze my eyes shut against the barrage of tiny wet bullets that hit my face. It's a very heavy rainstorm. It hurts my tenderised skin. I feel as if I deserve it. No - I know I deserve it.  
  
I used to be able to run a six-minute mile. My location and calculations tell me I've come about three miles from my home. That's just over eight minutes per mile. Not too shabby, though I grimace at the knowledge that I haven't exercised much of late, and today was only because I pushed myself so hard. Tomorrow my body will take it's revenge on me. I'll force myself into movement despite the pain.   
  
- You deserve the pain.  
  
- I deserve the pain.  
  
- You need this pain.  
  
- I need this pain.  
  
I begin my torture again.  
  
Run faster. Push harder. Be better. Run faster. Push harder. Be better. Run faster. Push harder. Be better. This will work. I'll get thin and beautiful and a man will fall in love with me and Piper will accept me and I'll be happy.  
  
For the last half hour I'd forgotten about Piper's existence. Sometimes it's better that way. The last year of my life has been the final straw. I'd been screwed up before but this was just the push I needed to get me right over the edge. When I discovered my sisters I thought I'd finally got everything I'd ever dreamed of. I hoped that my perfect life was about to commence. That all the toils of the old Paige were a thing of the past, I'd finally get to be normal.  
  
Even the witch thing didn't faze me that much. I've always had a degree of supernatural eccentricity to me, I'd embraced it long before becoming Charmed. It wasn't about being normal as others perceived it. It was about being normal for me. Being normal in my life, my thoughts, my relationships.   
  
Moments pass as I listen to my sneakers pounding heavily against the road. I'm running out of breath faster now, and the stitch in my side is showing no signs of dissolving or even relenting, no matter how much I tense up or slow down. Maybe I should just orb home. Yes - I'll orb onto my bed and just fall right asleep. That's what I'll do.  
  
My pace slows as I concentrate on my body separating into tiny particles and relocating back at my loft apartment. In anticipation of flopping onto my bed, I start to lean forward and close my eyes, gravity soon taking over and pulling me down. I realise just before I hit the ground that my powers are gone. If this was the Hitchhiker's Guide, I'd be flying by now.   
  
But it's not, and now I have approximitely point zero-one of a second to save myself.  
  
I feel my nose break upon impact of the hard, concrete ground. A loud thudding sound permeates my hearing, quietly at first, as if it's been put into slow motion, then building up into a resonant echo through my head. Immediately I can taste blood in my mouth as it runs down the tube connecting my nose to my throat and over my tongue. My left eye pulses agonisingly and my front teeth feel as if they're vibrating from behind my lip which has been split open from the pressure of so much sudden weight falling upon it.  
  
Unexpected.  
  
A low cry comes from my mouth and when I roll over onto my back my hands instinctively rush up to my throbbing nose, burning from continual waves of pain storming over it. The rain washes the blood off me and mixes it with the loose hair.   
  
I'm alone at night in the rain in the dark.   
  
I've messed up my face with one mistake. I've ruined myself even more. But I'm over the pain now, it's softening to a quieter yet consistent beating which feels like my entire face is burning. The pelting rain emphasises how tender it is but also cools me down. It's bittersweet.   
  
Slowly I get up and I head home. I walk past a group of two couples. One of them makes a horrified noise when they see my face glowing in the streetlights. I must look pretty bad.   
  
- Get over it Paige. It was meant to happen. You have to learn that you'll never be accepted, normal, loved. You'll never be happy. Now go, you've still got three miles to get home. Get a move on!  
  
Yes. I'll keep going. I'll keep going until I stop.   
  
My aching legs begin to press me for speed and I give in, starting to run once more. The jerking of my body makes blood drip from my nose faster. It's nothing. If anything, it's affirmation. This sweet pain is what I need.   
  
Run faster. Push harder. Be better. Run faster. Push harder.   
  
Be better. 


	3. Hope You Enjoy The View

A/N: If I'm seven shades of unsure about this installment, you should see me quiver in my little boots about posting the next one!  
  
A/N: Heather - cheers! Heh I love it!  
  
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Psychosis: Revelations  
  
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She often sat by the window on the ledge and stared outside into the bleak skies overhead, out into the city, the grey buildings piling on top of her darkened heart. Tears caused her to feel so tired - so tired, but yet she couldn't sleep. She couldn't sleep, nor could she eat. Dark shadows decorated the undersides of her eyes and a permanent blank expression was installed on her face at all times.  
  
An inexplicable feeling fell in at the pit of her stomach. She felt hungry but she knew she could not eat; she felt somewhat insatiated yet still without the desire to be so. It confused her. Loneliness washed over once more and she could almost feel it physically push her towards the window; ever towards the window.   
  
Tug on the glass pane, step on the ledge, lean a little forward, over the edge. So simple yet so impossibly difficult. She'd never have the courage to do it.  
  
Pressure as a hand was placed on her shoulder told her that the 'love of her life' had just entered the room, in that magical way he did. Appearing out of nowhere and directly behind her, he always seemed to know when she was in turmoil. Soothingly, he used his thumb to gently knead at her shoulder blade, massaging her pain away. Little things, caring things... he could always make her feel better. Perhaps he couldn't quell her fears, hurts, agonies and frustrations permanently, but he was perfect for instant temporary forgetfulness.   
  
"What's wrong, sweetie?" he asked her, his voice low and whispered.  
  
She didn't reply for a long time, her mind completely elsewhere. It frequently was nowadays. Her partner often had to repeat himself to her, and sometimes it was near impossible to get her to understand a word he said. She was so out of it all the time, as if she was drugged to the extremes. She was a zombie, a shadow of the woman she used to be, of her past, of who she was only years before... before, when he'd first fallen in love with her.   
  
"Paige," she replied uncertainly. It'd been so long since she'd seen her sister that impossible as it seems, she was beginning to forget her personality, who she was. She was even beginning to forget her own personality, preferring to live as if in a dull shock, day by day. "Can I have a yoghurt?"   
  
Her childlike tones and the suddenness with which she switched from one serious subject to one of complete irrelevance didn't take him by surprise. She'd been acting this way for a long time, moody, depressed, regressing back into when she was younger, often flooded by memories from her past that simply wouldn't die.   
  
Looking into her hopeful eyes, he hardened his own gaze. Why was this happening to him - to her? He had often found himself regretting his choice of the struggle he'd gone through to be with her. Not that he regretted it immensely, but sometimes he couldn't help but get a taste of the little "if only" factor.   
  
Of course, his mind soon changed. Who could remain angry at this fragile human being? Relenting under her persistent stare, he took a single step backwards and clenched his jaw. "Of course you can," he told her. "What flavour?"  
  
She thought hard about his question, as if it may affect her existence on this planet if she made the wrong choice. A childhood memory of her sister Prue flashed into her mind and she smiled. "Peach," she requested. Now she could think back to what happened and laugh. Prue had gotten into such trouble for pouring peach yoghurt down Phoebe's back and Piper had felt sorry for Prue and brought her a cookie. It was their entire relationship embodied - or so she thought at this particular moment in time.   
  
When she raised her lowered eyes to meet his, perhaps tilt her head, inviting his lips unto her own, he was gone. A scowl replaced the smooth look on her face as anger fell over her. Abandoner. That's what he was. He always left, without a word of goodbye, without any hint of his return - even whether he would return at all, just... Disappearing Man. And he claimed to love her? Ridiculous!   
  
Reaching over, she undid the catch on the window and gave it a small timid push. It swung open with a creak, spreading out and reaching away from the house, as if in escape. She wanted to escape too. This life she led now, this was escape. However she'd always thought that escape would mean her access to a happier, better world. But she wasn't happy. And she wasn't better.  
  
To keep balance, she stood up off the window ledge then clambered back up onto it on her hands and knees, grounding herself firmly. Her darting palms pawed their way closer to the outside and soon clung onto the thin metal strip which marked the bottom of the window. Leaning forwards, she thrust her head outside and found herself buffeted by a huge blast of icey cold wind. Immediately she retracted back into the house, shying away from the discomfort of outside.  
  
How did that cold, painful feeling symbolise freedom? Freedom was supposed to be something beautiful, liberating and wonderful. What she'd experienced was sheer displeasure. For a flash moment she loathed the outdoors, detested fresh air; looking out the window and recoiling with abhorrance.  
  
No. She was being silly. She needed to sleep, her eyes were so hot and still sticky from the tears that they begged her to close them and drift off to sleep, perhaps for an entire week. That would be proper escape, she decided.  
  
Smiling a little with her idea, she left the window wide open as she entered the bathroom and wandered over to the medicine cabinet. Several bottles of pills occupied the shelves, nothing important, just painkillers and cough sweets. Still, it was worth a shot. Anything to let her be asleep and out of this place!   
  
Perhaps she would dream, dream of the old days when she was younger. Perhaps she would dream of the future when she would be happy at last. Perhaps she would dream of Prue. She'd like that. She lifted a packet of paracetamol caplets out of the cabinet and turned on the water which gurgled down the sink. There was an empty cup beside the sink and she filled this with the water.   
  
Popping several caplets out from their sealed, protective pods, she placed one on her tongue before quickly taking a swig of the water, knowing how repulsive the painkiller's taste was once it began to dissolve. Killing pain. She hoped it did exactly as the title promised.   
  
She repeated the process five times before her lover opened the door and cried her name in shock.  
  
Dashing over to her aid, Cole snatched the emptying box of paracetamol from Phoebe's hand and knocked the water out of her grasp, splashing it right down the mirror of the cabinet above the sink.   
  
With tears in his eyes, he looked into her own, trying to search out any ounce of sanity she had left. How was she so affected by what happened to her sisters? She should be her normal self, not just the same as them! What had gone wrong?  
  
His heart stretched and wrenched inside him as Phoebe slowly began to sob, toppling forwards into him and letting him support her. He would always support her. 


	4. And Right Back At Ya

A/N: *quakes in little boots* It's sweet that you trust me so much when I'm this insecure.   
  
... fools.   
  
But it's more than appreciated! :-D  
  
PLEASE READ THIS:  
  
A/N: I also want your opinion on something, y'guys. A new story I'm considering, with a theme *not* stolen from the show 24. Except that it's completely stolen. I want to take a day in the life of the Halliwells, hour by hour, and write it down, including every single detail, thought and feeling. And have one story per sister. I'd post the chapters once a week, but on separate days, say Piper on a Monday, Phoebe on a Tuesday and Paige on a Wednesday, you get the idea. And each story would be 24 chapters long. What I'd like to ask you is firstly, if you'd be interested because it's a lot of reading on your part and even more work on my part, I'd have to have them near complete or at least 10 hours before I started posting, and it'd be going up once I've finished this story probably. Secondly, you guys know how much I love my first person point of view, and I think I'd quite like to write these stories (working title Just A Day, will change since that title sucks) in the first person so I want the go-ahead on that too, since after this I'm unsure if you're sick of it. So please post a review with your thoughts, I'd love to hear what you think, and oh yeah - here's chapter four of Psychosis:R!  
  
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Psychosis: Revelations  
  
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The witch stood alone in dense forest, muffled out by the thick of the trees, the humidity of the air, the proximity of the various plants and strange calls of tropical and fantastical birds singing into the wind of the canopies above her. She turned around and was in the manor, the attic to be exact, and standing at the Book of Shadows which rested as ever on it's podium, ancient pages held open at a particular spell.  
  
Beyond her control she was reading, a candle lit on the table by her side, a vial waiting in anticipation close to it and the athame held shaking in her right hand as she brought it towards her left. "Blood to blood I summon thee," the words fell out of her mouth, dancing across the airwaves and into the fields of her power. She couldn't stop it, it was as if she was simply a spectator of the events, watching herself but from through her own eyes. "Blood to blood, let it be."  
  
Pricking her finger with the athame, she didn't react to the strangely large amount of blood that spurted from her, instead she just watched it trickle down the sides of the vial and rest in a small pool at the bottom. Raising her eyes, she looked pointedly at the old rug in the center of the room, around which five candles flickered gleefully. Nothing happened.   
  
Pushing the swelling feeling in her throat back down, she closed her eyes and took several deep breaths.  
  
When she opened them, she was in a giant, white chamber. The first thing that she became aware of was the eternal sense of peace that this place invoked in her, but other senses warned her about the undertones of panicked anxiety travelling through the air. Huge white pillars stretched from the floor right into the sky, as if they would never end for this place had no roof, only clouds, and it seemed as if the clouds were the floor also. Firm as it was, a thick mist shrouded around her feet and made it look as though her legs from the calves downwards simply didn't exist.   
  
She gazed in wonder as a man many times her size stalked across the area. It wasn't his sheer mass that shocked her, for he was about four times the height of her - and probably ten times the weight; nor was it his dress which consisted of a Greek mythology style toga and a wreath of olive leaves on his head, nor was it the normality with which he existed. As a matter of fact, the more she thought about it, he didn't surprise her at all. She was shocked at the fact that seeing such a creature, so large a person, didn't even make her flinch.   
  
Frowning, she heard a noise from behind her but upon turning, there was a bright yellow light which flashed once, twice, thrice, and one final time, so brightly that she had to cover her eyes with her hands, and when she lowered her hands but kept her eyes closed she could sense from behind the lids that she was in a much darker place. Slowly, she opened her eyes and saw shapes dance in front of her vision, a temporary result from the flashing lights she'd just been subjected to.   
  
Her voice infiltrated the silence. "Powers of the witches rise, course unseen across the skies. Come to us that call you near," gently her sight returned to normal again. She was in the attic once more. Opening her mouth, she finished the incantation. "Come to us and settle here."  
  
Two other voices had joined her own, and when she looked to her sides, Phoebe was to her right, and Paige to her left. Phoebe's grasp on her hand was anxious yet affirming, whereas Paige's was tight and crushing; clearly Paige was the more nervous of the two.   
  
Between the five candles arranged on the floor, a group of white orbs entered from the roof and settled in the middle of them, before forming into the person she'd been searching for.  
  
As Prue stepped out of the circle, her body instantly and visibly solidified.   
  
For a moment she stood, and looked down at her hands, then raised her eyes to look at Piper. A slight frown crossed her face; she was confused and disorientated. Piper opened her mouth to say something, anything, but only a tiny croak left her throat.  
  
Phoebe and Paige were gone.  
  
Slowly, agonisingly slowly, Prue padded over to Piper, her feet barely leaving the ground in her tiny baby steps. Reaching out, Prue took a hold of Piper's hands and brought them in front of her, feeling, touching, living once more. Drawing in a shuddering breath of real air, Prue traced her fingers along the lines of Piper's hands, dropping tears onto them telling Piper definitively that she was most certainly existing.  
  
Prue's frown deepened as her confusion grew at this novelty. A shallow breath escaped her lips and Piper could feel the warm air touch her own face. Slowly, the younger sister moistened her lips and tried once more to speak. "Prue," she choked, her voice a bare whisper. "I can't believe it."  
  
Letting go of Piper's hands, Prue continued to look down, obviously in deep shock. The transition from death to life had affected her deeply, but she was slowly gaining her bearings. The gentle look of confusion became a grimace, and then a scowl. She took a quick step backwards and looked at Piper's, locking eyes with her in a furious glare. "What have you done to me?" she spat, her voice toneless, more of a harsh whisper than proper speech.   
  
Piper tried to look past how her sister appeared to be upset and just focus on her presence. "I brought you back," she replied, still not able to raise her voice higher or louder from her astonished breathlessness. "You're alive."  
  
A hand clasped up at Prue's face as she began to shake her head, uttering the word "No" over and over. Something was wrong. She started to pace around, still massaging her temples, breathing erratically, louder, louder, getting hotter and hotter until she whipped around and faced Piper, pointing a shaking finger at her accusingly. "You! What have you done to me!" she yelled. "You've ruined it! Everything... it's gone! All because of you!"  
  
"What?" Piper uttered, her incredulity evident in her voice. "Prue - you're with me again! How is that bad?"  
  
Narrowing her eyes, Prue grit her teeth at her sister. "I don't want to be with you," she growled. "I never wanted to see this place, this, hellhole, again. Ever. In my life or death, I never wanted to see your whining, pitiful little rodent face again."  
  
She was so angry, so venomous, so... hateful, that Piper couldn't help but retract away from her a little. How could she react this way to the tremendous gift that she'd been blessed with? It wasn't right. It simply... wasn't! With a quivering lip, Piper raised her eyes to meet Prue's. "I just thought... I just thought it was what you would've wanted."  
  
"Well you thought wrong, didn't you?" Prue spat, her voice taking on a colourful tonal edge. "Little Piper knows what's best does she? She knows how her big sisters feels now? Oh, Piper knows everything, of course she does!" She paused and stared hard at her sibling. "Listen to me you little bitch. You never knew me." Her voice was harsh but the words themselves were worse. Still she didn't relent. "All these years of small talk, chit-chat, begging me to open up - all that moronic shit we went through, it meant nothing to me. You mean nothing to me."  
  
Horror pulsed through Piper's body at this torrent of abuse she was receiving, but her shock was so paralysing she couldn't bring herself to even contend with an answer.   
  
Stepping forwards, Prue whipped her hand upwards and grabbed at Piper's neck to deliver her final blow. She could feel Piper attempt to swallow, a nervous reaction, through her hand. A small choking sound escaped her little sister's throat and cocking her head to the side, Prue slowly squeezed, digging her fingers into the soft flesh of Piper's neck. She brought her own face right up to Piper's until their noses were almost touching, and they could feel each other's breath. "I'd rather die again than spend another hour with you."  
  
Prue roughly pushed Piper away and receded across the room. Piper flew backwards, stumbling but catching herself with one hand slapping out onto the floor to stop herself from falling, and crouched there for a moment, holding her neck. Several coughs enabled her to breath properly again, and when she looked up at her sister once more she cried out in shock to see that, like the awful image she'd seen months ago, Prue's body was rapidly decomposing in front of her very eyes!  
  
Her eyes shrunk inwards and her skin shrivelled. Large tears appeared in her clothes and her right shoulder blade tore its way out of the flesh it was contained within. There was a snapping sound as Prue's shaking body twisted the wrong way and a leg found itself facing another direction, and now from the empty eye sockets, beetles and worms were beginning to crawl around, up her nostrils and in her mouth. Her hair thinned and became dry and coarse, and large, bloody gashes soon covered all visible skin.  
  
She stopped convulsing and the room went deadly silent.   
  
Piper, still holding herself off the ground with one hand, couldn't pull her eyes off the skeletal monster in front of her. Her breathing came out in patchy utterances. Staring sorrowfully up at her sister, she forced herself to blink, and when she opened her eyes again, Prue was still there, still standing, still staring from those hollow sockets.  
  
"No..." she choked, not believing what was happening. So difficult to bring here, so easily stolen away.  
  
In an instant, Prue looked like her normal self once more, and Piper's heart leapt with the prospect that perhaps her sister was okay. But still the dark glower on Prue's face remained. Then with a swift turn, she was pulling open the window, swinging the glass in towards her and hastily putting one foot on the edge of the sill before using it to thrust herself out of the window, down to the ground, to her death. 


	5. I Don't Need Nobody

A/N: I see my evil scheme for confusing the hell out of you guys is working nicely! Think about the last chapter, go and skim over it. Does it sound like something that would really happen? Piper somehow changing locations, from a forest to cloud-land to the attic, just like that? For Phoebe and Paige to appear from out of nowhere then be gone again? For Prue to return, be an evil so and so, turn into a zombie then back, then throw herself out a window?  
  
Prue's not back, she's most certainly not evil, and Piper is a crazy maniac. And you love her for it.  
  
A/N: Heather, I am loving your review count! Anon, thank you also, what would I do without you? And Kit, I'm A/Ning you for fun because you're great. Sorry about the long break, suffering from mundo writer's block and a general hatred of this chapter. Well, I think it's time for a little Paigey goodness!  
  
*  
  
Psychosis: Revelations  
  
*  
  
I'm scared. I'm scared for myself and I'm scared for her. Contending with hiding what I must is proving itself more difficult than I ever imagined. Is it possible to keep such treachery a secret from someone you love so much?   
  
Whenever I see her my heart breaks with the knowledge of how much she hurts inside, and how that is my fault. I'd like to point the finger at someone else for Phoebe running away from her family. I'd like to blame Paige, for what she did to her. But if it hadn't been for me, none of this would've happened. It's a burden I must bear, and keep with me.   
  
Forever.  
  
* * *  
  
And up and stretch and pull and down and up and stretch and pull and down and up and stretch and pull and down, come on, get the toes, you can do it, touch the toes, up and stretch and pull and down and clench it, clench it, clench and stretch and clench and stretch and reach and grab, hold, hold, pull and down and-  
  
I collapse backward heavily, my back screaming at me in agony as I finally let it relax after thirty solid minutes of stomach crunches. I don't wonder why I'm doing this to myself, I just get on with it. Why question something that's working so well to take my mind off my life?   
  
Of course, now that I'm lying here, aching... my thoughts flounder from the task at hand to other things. I hear music start to play, whether it's real or it's just in my head I'll never know. I recognise the mellow acoustic intro, the repeated notes, walking bassline, simplicity of the violins playing their slow yet tingling melody. Already I have goosebumps. Such emotion conceived in so little time, no words, just music.  
  
"All around me, I see what weakness has made."  
  
Of course. Now I know why this song has always meant so much to me. Why it means so much to people like me. I could imagine that Prue would have as much affinity with this song as I do. The contradiction is painful to listen to.  
  
"Too much tomorrow - I think I'll take all today"  
  
I only wish. How come it feels like I never seem to do anything, but somehow I have no time? Is it some kind of infernal laziness that's spread over me? What's changed now that I can never be bothered to make any effort for anything anymore? That's a lot of anys. Whatever, so I have a limited grasp on this language of ours, so sue me.   
  
Why the hell am I arguing with myself over my fucking vocabulary? I'm so easily annoyed these days! Fuck's sake!  
  
"Am I a poison? Am I a thorn in the side?"  
  
Back to my melancholic bitterness again, I think I'm a pest to just about everybody in my life. Including myself. I don't know what it is with me, but whenever I have company, I just... find myself getting inexplicably angry and for what reason, I'll never know! It's like I'm possessed or something, it just hurts and burns too much to have to listen to people drone on and lecture me and even when they're trying to be chivalrous and kind I can't help but perceive it as condescending.   
  
"Am I picture perfect subject tonight?"  
  
Ha! That's great, just great. What's more comforting than listening to a song which can jibe at you from every angle? I know I'm not the prettiest person in the world, god dammit! What the hell do you want from me? I exercise for over eight hours per day, I torture myself endlessly about my appearance, and here's the question blatantly thrown in my face. Not tonight.  
  
I wonder if I've ever actually said the sentence "Not tonight" to someone. I'm a slut. I know I am. I can't remember the number of one night stands I've had, always liking the guy more than I should, always getting hurt when I wake up alone in the morning, last night's mascara gluing my eyes half shut, his smell still lingering on my sheets.  
  
And I'd cry in the shower, and then again in the car on the way to work. And I'd duck out of work or be sent home because I'm so goddamn miserable. Look at me now, crying. Lying on the floor and crying. Sickly sweat sticks to my skin, and the tears enforce the rawness of my flesh onto me.  
  
But I've hardened now. I'm better.   
  
"I don't need nobody  
I don't need the weight of words  
To crash on through."  
  
I silently agree with Ed Roland's convincing lies. Because now, after all this, I know I don't need anybody. I fell to far behind in the belief that I did, that all I needed to be happy was somebody, anybody, and that I'd be fixed. That I'd be okay. And I tried, god, how hard I really tried. And when I found my sisters? It was like all my prayers had been answered.  
  
"I don't need nobody  
I just need to learn the depth  
Or doubt of faith to fall into."  
  
Faith. What a load of shit. Speaking as a person who used to have this so-called faith, I think I'm allowed to say that I just don't believe in it anymore. How can something I tried and toiled over so hard to attain, something I pleaded and begged so much for, something I believed would eventually happen be such a disappointment? Something I had faith in. Happiness was something I had faith in, and look at me. I'm pathetic.  
  
"Here I slumber to awaken my daze."  
  
What a good idea. I could use a nice long sleep. A nice long eternal sleep. I've tried it before but that idiot Leo stopped me... and times before that, I'd never cut too deep. Maybe next time I'll do better.  
  
"I find convenience in this savior I save."  
  
I remember when we started. The incredible feeling of utter disbelief I used to get when we saved an innocent, my astonishment that I, Paige Matthews, could be capable of such things. Of course it was what I'd wanted my whole life, why I'd gone into a career with the social services, but to help people to this caliber was just incredible!  
  
Still... I can't help but feel my joining of the Charmed Ones was a little convenient. What am I supposed to feel? Their sister dies on them and suddenly they find out about me? It's to far-fetched. Maybe they knew all along. Maybe they knew about me but chose not to contact me. Maybe they were ashamed.  
  
I tune out of the song, unable to take in the lyrics anymore for fear that they'll apply to me just that little bit too much and I'll get angry. Because when that happens, I only hate myself more and feel totally wretched about it. Trying to calm down only makes it worse, it fuels my rage, making me challenge myself with why should I stop myself? Why should I comply to their stupid rules? Why should I be civilised? I can't even be civil to myself let alone others. I only wish that since I'd attacked my beautiful sweet sister Phoebe I'd have found a cure, but no. For still that inexplicable urge and burning forces itself upon me. Still I am angry.  
  
I've broken stuff, not just mine. I caused a car accident, then wondered why I rushed in to help. I've made a tornado in my room, it's a mess and afterwards, once the heat goes away, I feel so desperately frightened and alone and sweaty and hateful that it only becomes worse! So I take it out on myself. I punish my mind, I punish my body. It'd what I deserve for being such a despicable person.   
  
This can't be who I was supposed to be, can it?   
  
Shouldn't I be comfortable in my own skin? Then why do I feel like tearing it all off and becoming a new person? I wish I wasn't me.   
  
Breathing hard, I let my head fall backwards onto the ground with a little thump.   
  
"You're all I need.  
While the water runs deep."  
  
The song has reached it's epiphiny: how rather than pushing people away claiming that he doesn't need anybody, Ed Roland realises that it's quite the opposite. He's spent all this time convincing himself and others that he's better off alone, that he can take care of himself, that he never took the time to actually consider the fact that really another person is all he needs.   
  
And with this I identify myself. They're all I need. When I found them after a lifetime of searching for my missing part, I was overjoyed at the prospect of finally having someone. Of being complete. Then Piper's illness came into play and all I could do was distance myself to avoid getting hurt.   
  
I was a fool.  
  
I need to repair this.  
  
I need my sisters.  
  
Propping myself up onto my elbows, I see bright blue orbs appear in the far corner of my room just as the last notes of the song die away. Something I will never know is if that song was actually playing, or it was just in my head. I'd like to take it as a sign. As my own personal epiphany. As a gift.  
  
"I sensed a change," Leo explains his presence, looking intimidated.  
  
Nodding reproachfully, I slowly get to my feet, feeling clammy and sweaty under my loose clothes. "I want to make this better Leo," I tell him. "I can't live with this, thinking about what could've been. About how the Charmed Ones were destroyed by themselves and not evil. I can't believe that we're the evil here."  
  
Stepping forward, Leo reaches a hand out towards me then falters, and puts it back by his side. "You're not," he says forcefully. "I promise you, you're not the evil. And you can prove it."  
  
Wetting my lips, I sniff and look down at the floor, before connecting my eyes with him. "I'm sorry Leo, I'm sorry for everything I did and-"  
  
He cuts me off with a "shh" and quickly pulls me into a tight embrace. "You don't have to apologise for anything Paige. But I must warn you... things are going to get worse before they get better."  
  
Before I can question him, I feel us begin to orb out as he takes me home, where I will find out that Piper is manic and Phoebe is gone.  
  
*  
  
*  
  
A/N: Ew.   
  
The song is Needs by Collective Soul, I advise you all give it a good listen because it really is incredible. And no, I will never go down the road of a songfic again. You have my word. *shudders* 


	6. April Showers

A/N: Sorry about that! Looks like it didn't update properly. Here is the new chapter.  
  
A/N: Deary me Anon, I swear I'm starting to write this for you. As for Lycan Animal, I'm afraid I deleted it from fanfiction because I really despise having more than one story going on at once. I don't think I'll post it again, but I still have it all, up to chapter ten so if you're really interested I could send it to you or something. Whatever you want.  
  
A/N: Heather, I love your reviews but what happened with your story? You evil person.  
  
A/N: Snowbunny (I'm not even gonna try to remember what letters are caps), I convinced KT to let her reviews on your story be on behalf of me because my review system barely works but I wanna say here that I absolutely love The Power of Four. It's fantastic.  
  
A/N: All else, thank you guys for the overly-kind reviews. You're too nice to me. Sorry I'm taking so long to update this of late, suffering writer's block and general crapness. As for that idea I had where I take 24 hours of the Halliwell's life, I abandoned it for something much better. See my profile. I think.  
  
A/N: Swearing and crudities on Piper's part. She should watch that mouth of hers!  
  
*  
  
Psychosis: Revelations  
  
*  
  
How uncommon it is to find myself pondering life, the universe, and everything. It never happens. Except when I breathe, that's when it happens. Breathing. If I could just stop myself doing that then I wouldn't have to contend with all the musings of my little mind.  
  
Sometimes I've tried. To stop breathing, that is. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to just hold your breath forever? It's impossibility. Even if I had the will to deprive myself to the point of unconsciousness, I'd just start again as soon as I was unaware of my actions! I just can't damn well win.   
  
I hate thinking. It just fucking sucks. And it's all I do, all day, every day.  
  
I want sex. Damn. Where the hell is Leo? I want him now. I want Cole. I want anybody with a dick. Damn. It's been so long. Even if I came on to Leo like there was no tomorrow he wouldn't touch me. I could put on my sexiest lingerie and offer to go down on him for three hours and he'd tell me no. Why? Is it because I'm crazy? Does that mean I don't want sex every now and then? Christ it's as if I've got leprosy or something! I'm some diseased rabbit waiting to be put down. Screw that. I'm calling for him.  
  
My voice sounds demanding as I shout his name, and momentarily I wish I'd put a sexy spin on my tone so he'd know why I want him. Then again, that's probably reason enough for him to stay away. Bastard. Wonder where he's getting laid if it's not me.  
  
How to describe my feelings when The Bastard orbs in with none other than my halfling sister Paige. She is clutching her arms around him and burying her face into his chest. That little slut is trying to steal my husband - again!  
  
Immediately I'm on my feet, my hair bristling. Though wait - seeing Paige tear her face away and slowly make contact with my eyes, I see a different expression in her eyes from the calculating sneer I was expecting. Maybe he's raping her. Then it's all his fault.   
  
"We Halliwells have to stick together," I tell them. Leo looks oh so very confused. I continue. "What the hell are you playing at?"  
  
Seeing the death scowl on my face, Paige detaches herself and hastily wipes at her eyes. She's been crying, a lot from what I can tell, the skin around her eyes looking itchy and red. I know that feeling all too well. All too well do I know that feeling. I know that feeling all too well.  
  
"Piper," Leo begins, his voice placid and unemotional. I wonder what he's feeling inside. Hard, I bet. "Don't you have anything you wanna say to Paige?"  
  
So it is that miserable wretch who's coming on to Leo, not the other way around. Blood shoots through my veins, I can feel it slithering its way along, and momentarily I feel detached. Oh well. She's in for it this time. I can feel my hands clench into tight fists just by looking at her.   
  
"Do it Piper, teach that bitch a lesson."  
  
Pausing, I contemplate this then turn and look at the speaker. "You would say that. She replaced you," I tell her, feeling perfectly valid in my reasoning.  
  
Prue stutters for a second before regaining her composure. I hit her close to home. Because what I said was true. All Paige is is a scrawny Prue wannabe. Prue runs her tongue over her teeth in thought. "And now she's going to replace you as the wife. She's gonna kill you Piper."  
  
"No she won't. I'm all she has," I deny. Though what if Prue is right? It wouldn't be the first time she's tried to kill...  
  
"No," Prue tells me firmly, like a mother to a child. As always I accept this tone. Prue lays down the law around here, and I obey. "Leo is all she has. They've fucked. Did you know that?"  
  
Off-guard. A frown leaps onto my forehead and I immediately don't accept what's probably true. "They have not."  
  
"I saw it with my very own eyes," she explains, then her voice takes on a sing-song tone. "He was making her ve-ry happy."  
  
"It's not true. Leo loves me," I say.  
  
"He used to," she replies, not even missing a beat.  
  
"He still does!"  
  
"Do you really believe that?"  
  
I don't. Silently, I stare at my big sister and wait for her to tell me what to do.  
  
* * *  
  
Paige leapt into the shower and spun the handle; clean, heavy water immediately flowing from the shower head above her.   
  
"Dirty," she whimpered to herself. "Dirty."  
  
Soon her tears had merged with the water, and holding her shaking hands out, Paige quietly wailed to herself. "Get off, get off, get off!" she ordered the dirt, and as it followed her instruction, she watched as the blood splattered on her body was washed away, disappearing down the drain.   
  
"So dirty," she told herself again, her voice fragile and weak. "Bad, bad, bad Paige."   
  
As she scolded herself, she picked up the metal dish scourer she'd grabbed from the kitchen. Furiously, she began to viciously scrub at her skin, leaving bleeding scratches in the wake of the metal brush.   
  
Soon the only blood she was covered in was her own, and even that trickled away, pooling around the drain and slowly falling through into the pipes, into forgetfulness.  
  
She spent an extra long time scouring the flesh on her hands, for they were the most evil. 


	7. Reflections

A/N: Oh Anon, I couldn't help but force myself to churn this out after I got your review. Sorry to hear you were sick, I hope you're feeling much better now. After all, I need my "biggest" "fan" to be on top form, don't I? So this one is for you :-) It's even Paige POV because I know you like it.  
  
A/N: Violence and swearing. References to sex. Nudity. Oh, but not graphic. Jeepers. Have I got everything "naughty" in this?  
  
*  
  
Psychosis: Revelations  
  
*  
  
She just started talking. And talking. And talking and bitching and whining and she just wouldn't fucking- she just... she just wouldn't shut up. And Leo, that total fucking asshole, what the hell? He just... he just made her snap! Gave a feeble excuse about leaving us alone to sort things out. Big mistake buddy. She just couldn't take him abandoning her anymore. I know where she is now, I've felt it, I'm in the same place. Just because we're total psychotic nutjobs it doesn't mean we don't work the same way. She still needs him and I still need her.   
  
I'm just evil, that's all.   
  
All that's different about us is that we just emote a little bit more. We feel more. We connect with our desires and thoughts and give them life, we react, we live more than how we used to. That's all.  
  
Of course, the reactions can often be as extreme as the feelings.   
  
Have you ever loved somebody so much you wanted to hurt them?  
  
Sounds melodramatic, doesn't it? But it happens. Before I was found by my sisters, I wouldn't say I was unhappy as such... okay, I wouldn't say I was suicidal, I'll give myself that. I was taking tablets for depression and drinking at the same time. Boy were those fun nights. If I didn't end up passing out from the mix in my blood, I'd just let loose and go completely wild. One morning I woke up naked with about seven other girls and four men, and I just had no idea what the hell I'd been doing. The place reeked of sex though. You know that smell; heavy, thick, rubbery, intoxicating. It always made me feel sick the morning after if the night before felt like a dream. Or a coma.  
  
Head off to the family planning clinic; you know the free one. The charity. That's what I was - a charity case. They used to know me when I walked in, exchanged bemused looks with one another because 'that slut' had returned to see if she'd gotten pregnant - again. Oh, did I not mention those? Yes, plural. Five abortions, two miscarraiges. Disgusting, isn't it?   
  
Where did I go so wrong?  
  
This is why I so easily threw myself into giving my sisters my trust. Do you know how long I knew Piper for before she went crazy? Three months. Three fucking months. And three fucking months was all I needed to fall in love. It's been more than a year now, and what the hell am I still doing here when all I give and receive is intolerable pain? I'm so filled with hope I'm hopeless. I wish, I pray, that one day, one day all of this will be over. I could even cope without the witch stuff. At first, although being a bit spiritual myself, I remember rejecting it. Well, now it's rejecting us, but I don't care. I've had enough rejection in my life to harden me to it; I've almost come to expect it.  
  
But from the one person I've latched onto to keep me going, to keep me from becoming the depressive alcoholic I am so desperate to leave behind, being rejected from her is like having my heart sour and wrinkle in my very own chest. For it to deflate and rot and stink and decompose. It is to die.   
  
And after all this, one thing remains true: I do not wish to die. Not yet.  
  
Desperation can lead to terrible things in a person, and I have done a terrible thing. The most recent in a long string of terrible things. Piper lies unconscious and bleeding in the room next door. It is all by my hand of course. I'm evil, remember?   
  
When Leo brought me here I was so hopeful, so renewed, I felt fresh and free and willing. But she had other ideas. Leo thought, as per usual, that it would be better if he left us alone. That was where it all went wrong again. The look in her eyes, it was purely animal, territorial. She started accusing us of having an affair. Us. Me and Leo. It's tragic really. I know I was a bit crazy before, in the shower, when I had that fantasy... no, I shouldn't put it like that, that vision... hallucination, with Leo. Yeah, it was crazy. Unless it actually happened... when I think back to episodes like that it all becomes a little blurry. It just merges into one giant jumble and it's too damn hard to differentiate which events were real. But that, Leo's nature, it's just preposterous. I think.  
  
Piper was completely livid; mental. Leo, the coward, started his drone about leaving us alone. That's when she snapped. And I mean, really lost it. Like I do. She just lunged for him! Started clawing at his face, screaming and tearing at him, crying and shrieking, really out for blood. The scratch marks appeared instantly, and I soon found out myself how sharp her nails were from all her nervous biting.   
  
The guy didn't know what to do. He could hardly lash out at his own wife, could he? But not to worry - those glorius Elders swept in at the final moment to rescue their precious whitelighter and ripped him away from us before Piper ripped his arms off. You could see from his face that he hadn't meant to leave, but it was forced.  
  
Of course, this wasn't before I myself had jumped in on the grapple to try to prise her off her husband. Well what did you expect? Popcorn? I came up behind them and received an elbow in the face. And I thought that was bad enough. I tightened my arms around her belly and squeezed as tight as I could, hoping to choke the air out of her so she'd let go. And it worked. Realising that if she didn't stop, she wouldn't be able to breathe, slowly she relaxed, still clinging onto him. Then swiftly I lurched backwards and threw her onto her bed.   
  
I thought that would be the end of it. I thought she'd calmed down. As soon as she'd let go of Leo, he'd been stolen away from us; perfect timing as always. So now Piper had to find a new target for her anger.   
  
This must've been what it was like for Phoebe when she was facing me. I was terrified, yet at the same time, strangely excited. I don't think that was how Phoebe felt, I think this was just a spice I was adding myself. I've always leant a little more to the aggressive side in life, it's how I survived. And Piper was just appealing to that side of my personality. She was begging for a fight. She started taunting me, calling me a loser with nobody who loved me, no real family, nobody.   
  
And then it happened. The rage. It hit me like a punch in the stomach. And suddenly it was all over me, and it wasn't in me anymore; it was who I am. It was me.  
  
She didn't really stand a chance, in honesty. She'd been stuck in bed for the best part of a year and most of her physical strength had faltered and faded away. That doesn't mean she didn't put up a good fight, however. Oh no. She was wild. I mean, crazy wild. Like a cat. Fast as well. She could knee me in the stomach, smack my face and slam her fists onto my back before I even knew what was happening. I guess in her previous experiences, she knew what made people work. She knew that if she hit me somewhere, my body's reaction would momentarily let another place be exposed in it's shock.   
  
For a short while, she was really kicking my ass. And I mean really. I could barely get a punch in without being hit in about five different places. And she knew what hurt. For a while I thought that I'd met my match; more than that, I'd met the person who would finally put me out of my misery. But those thoughts passed.  
  
I too know what really, really hurts.  
  
I finally got the upper hand when Piper's fist was connecting with my temple and I lurched forwards, grabbing the base of her arm before hauling myself underneath it so I was behind her, then twisting it and pulling it up to her back. She practically lifted me into the air on top of her, because as a natural reaction the tendons have she bent double in pain. Now she couldn't move. She was at my mercy. Though at this stage I'd been so beaten that I had none.  
  
The sheer, pure, animal rage was inside me, it was in my blood, adrenaline coursing through me, pushing me, motivating me. She was crying out. I didn't care. I couldn't let her leave me, I couldn't let her abandon me. This family has already done it once before. I'd rather not have a family at all than have them reject me again.  
  
I was still twisting her arm when she let out a roaring scream. Dislocated. It must've hurt a lot. And I felt great. I felt like I was really getting through to her that she can't leave me. I was doing this out of love! It's justified! I love her god dammit! I love her so much I could kill her! I could beat her head in with my own fists until I couldn't even make out her face anymore. I could kill her.   
  
Perhaps I already have.   
  
Trembling and naked, now I am also bloody and coarse. I drop the metal cloth to the tiled floor of the shower and step out, dripping, the blood merging into the water and slithering down my skin. I feel clean now. I tore off my skin and am reborn. I cleansed myself so foully that surely I am safe, right? Am I? Please! Oh god please don't take her away from me!  
  
Calm now. Go upstairs. Get dressed. Hair wet. I'm okay. I'm okay. Just breathe. That's it. I'm okay. No needs. Just breathe.   
  
I stare into my mirror at the face of my enemy. She is cold, callous and criminal. She is cruel, conniving and calculating. She is me, and she is evil.   
  
Thoughts travel back donwstairs. Back to Piper. Is she dead? Is my big sister gone? What did I do? It's so hard to recall... my memory's fading away like a glass of brandy as time progresses.   
  
I'll go and I'll look. I'll crouch by her body. I'll ignore the pain. She'll look at me and smile and tell me everything will be alright. Yes. She's right. She always is. And she'll sit up and pull me close and whisper in my ear. Everything will be alright. 


	8. I Tell Myself The Same Damn Thing

A/N: To Snowbunny - aww! You poor thing! I can't believe you didn't guess. Anon, I'm happy to hear you're feeling better! Let's keep it that way eh?   
  
A/N: Mild sex scene. You have been warned.  
  
A/N: Thanks to those who helped me with this chapter... and to those who review, you're the ones making me continue!   
  
*  
  
Psychosis: Revelations  
  
*  
  
"I'll go and I'll look. I'll crouch by her body. I'll ignore the pain. She'll look at me and smile and tell me everything will be alright. Yes. She's right. She always is. And she'll sit up and pull me close and whisper in my ear. Everything will be alright."  
  
* * *  
  
Piper didn't look at Paige and smile and tell her everything would be all right. No. Paige was wrong. She always was. And she didn't sit up and pull Paige close or whisper in her ear that everything would be all right. She didn't do anything.  
  
Keeping to her resolution, Paige had indeed went downstairs to her battered sister to check her status. She'd crouched by her body, gazing at the unmoving form and examined the already purple bruises, contusions and abrasions. Piper's hair was spread out around her head like a halo, but she was face down and looked anything but glorified and angelic. She looked dead.   
  
Perhaps she was; Paige couldn't tell either way. She sat by Piper's body with a childlike innocence, as if casually waiting for a parent to wake up so she could have a playmate or get breakfast. She pulled her legs up to her body and hugged her knees, sitting at her big sister's side and rocking gently. Occasionally she'd throw a glance in Piper's direction, but always it was the same. In fact, there tended to be even more blood as time passed. Blood dripping from her nose, and the scratches on her face. Blood from a spot on her head Paige couldn't see from the way she was lying, but on closer inspection of a greasy-looking patch of hair, Paige found that it was soaked with blood rather than anything else. There was blood on her back too, turns out that just as the damp in her hair wasn't grease or tears, the wet patch on her dark shirt wasn't sweat. Paige's hands were scarlet, and so was her face from the constant touching she'd subjected herself to. When she was bored, she tended to paw at her features. Something her adoptive mother had frowned upon; apparently it made her dirty.  
  
Well, she wasn't as dirty as Piper, that was for sure. Paige had just taken a cold shower and scrubbed her skin fresh. Mabe even a little too fresh, she noted, looking at the huge scratches dominating the flesh on her arms. She'd rubbed off the old skin and left only the new. It was new and so was she.   
  
Several feet away, Cole stood impassively and watched the two Halliwells for a while longer. They'd completely cracked. All three of them. One thing for sure was that he was never going to let Phoebe be reunited with her sisters again, well not properly anyway. She'd been nagging at him recently to take her up here to visit, but she'd always been apprehensive about seeing Paige for some reason. Cole kept quiet the fact that he knew Paige had beat Phoebe up and that had been Phoebe's point of breakdown, because Phoebe never told him and if she found out he already knew then the questions would begin. He'd come up quickly just a few minutes ago to see how Paige and Piper were doing, and from the looks of things, the situation had worsened rather than improved; and this suited Cole just fine. With a smile, he shimmered out and arrived into the penthouse to see Phoebe padding into their bedroom wearing merely a towel. Perhaps their visit to the manor could wait just a little longer, he thought with a snide lick of his lips.  
  
Following Phoebe into the bedroom, he stood in the doorway and watched as she tossed the towel onto the bed and began to unravel the second one binding her hair up into a turban. Freed, she shook her hair out and sighed deeply. Cole could feel himself beginning to want her, and decided to make his presence known.  
  
"Oh!" Phoebe yelped and leapt into the bed at the sound of someone clearing his throat coming from behind her. She tugged the covers over her naked body and bounced on the soft mattress a few times before coming to rest and shooting Cole a deathly glare. "You scared me!" she accused.  
  
Smiling, Cole swaggered slightly as he entered the room. "I like 'em to be scared," he said in low tones. "I like to make 'em scream." He was unbuttoning his blue-tinged shirt as he spoke, and Phoebe clearly showed no objection to this as she opened the duvet to let him clamber in.  
  
Quickly removing his pants, Cole hopped under the covers with Phoebe wearing only his boxers, which weren't exactly the most inconspicuous of garments. He began to let his hands caress Phoebe's body, lingering on her breasts before wrapping around her back and pulling her in towards him. She was still wet from the shower. Then with one quick manouver, she was sitting on top of him. That was all the initiative they needed. Though Cole knew he could take his time; Paige and Piper would be in the same spot for a long while. Cole had made sure that their Whitelighter Leo had been taken care of.   
  
He'd summoned a Darklighter and that was that. Leo had really lost his touch when it came to sensing the old set up. Grab one of his charges, hold them hostage, make them scream out for him, and in he orbs, plain and simple. And BAM! Crossbow, arrow, right in the chest too. Terrific aim, that Darklighter. Cole took a note to recommend him to others... if only he could remember his name...  
  
It'd been really deep too. Cole had been hidden at the time but watched the whole thing. It looked sore, even for someone not quite so weedy as Leo. So they'd left him for dead at that same place. In fact, Cole realised with a smile, he was probably already gone. Everything was working out perfectly. Soon Phoebe would be his forever. All he had to do was completely sever her sisterly bond and she'd never want to see those witches again. He already had plans for the other two.   
  
Life was good. How easily he'd twisted a series of unfortunate events to his own advantage. Thank God that dumb bitch Prue had been killed, or else Piper never would've lost it, and Prue would've probably vanquished him once and for all by now. You had to respect her sheer enthusiasm for hating Cole, because she really did. And it wasn't just angry and screaming hate. It was cool, centered and calm. It was quiet loathing as well as detesting rage. It was hardcore. And he liked it.   
  
In some respects he actually quite missed the suspicious little whore. She'd always provided him with such challenges; it was almost as if it was an insult to Prue that he finally captured her baby sister thanks to the psychological misgivings of her other sister. And Paige had just dropped into the bag too. Well she was screwed up enough as it was without having to deal with Piper's shit and, of course, Cole's little... "push" in the right direction. He smiled again.  
  
Panting, Phoebe collapsed down beside Cole and let herself breathe for a few minutes. Then she turned onto her side and shot Cole a huge beaming grin. "I love you," she said.  
  
"Marry me," Cole uttered, completely unexpectedly even to himself.  
  
The request hung heavily in the air and for a moment it looked as if Phoebe was about to say no and throw it back in his face, but then her expression went blank in that special way that only hers did when she was shocked. And slowly, a smile spread over her lips. "Yes," she told him, "I will marry you. I will. Oh, I do!"  
  
Cole grinned joyously.  
  
Giggling, Phoebe sat up and kissed her new fiance lingeringly on the lips, then slowly moved down to his chest, running her tongue over his stomach. Before he betrayed his intentions, Cole sat up and pulled her into his arms, cradling her like a child. "You don't know just how happy you made me," he said, gazing into her eyes.  
  
"If it's even half as happy as I am, then yes I do," she replied, then once again her forehead smoothed out as she remembered something. "But first," she began, almost timidly, "first I want to get Piper and Paige's blessings. It's important to me that they approve."  
  
Cole nodded as if he understood and shifted her onto the bed so he could get up. "I'll take you to them now," he suggested.  
  
"Really?" Phoebe asked, her eyes brimming with hope. Previously, Cole had been refusing Phoebe visits with her sisters for reasons unbeknownst to the Halliwell. In fact, she hadn't seen them since... since...  
  
Suddenly Phoebe wasn't so keen on seeing her sisters after all. Memories of her last encounter with Paige flooded back to her in a torrent of horror and agonising pain. But Paige had seemed genuinely sorry at the time, hadn't she? Maybe she was better now, maybe she could explain herself and what was wrong with her. Slowly, Phoebe got dressed and mulled her thoughts over. Whatever she was going to do, there was no way she could tell Cole what had happened with Paige. It was just far too painful.  
  
She was going to be married! She couldn't believe it! Mrs Phoebe Turner. No, Halliwell-Turner. That way she was keeping up the family tradition while also making it clear she belonged to someone. Belonged, no, betrothed. That was a better word. It sounded so much more significant. She couldn't wait to tell Piper.   
  
Unable to conceal her huge grin, Phoebe bounded over to her fiance and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Let's go," she beamed, and didn't even care when the familiar not-so-pleasant feeling of the shimmer consumed her. Even during the two second transition from place to place her high spirits didn't waver. She was just so happy to feel like she belonged again. She was ecstatic.  
  
Until they arrived in the manor.  
  
Then she screamed.  
  
*  
  
*  
  
A/N: Sorry about the grossness there! But I just go with whatever comes to me because it feels natural for the characters so... don't blame me for any lost lunches. And don't worry about Cole's increasing suspicion-factor. I'm not going to spoil this story with that idiot. 


	9. Self Harm

A/N: Sorry about the repost - had to make a few changes.  
  
Oh the grind that is this story. Oh Psych. How I missed thee. Twas only yesterday that I birthed thy first chapter as a standalone fic and thus onwards was encouraged to continue. Twas only five minutes ago that I decided talking like this was amusing. And boy, is it!   
  
Alright, alright, I'll write more. To tell you the truth, I was - between general procrastination - being a meanie and making you wait until my review count hit the next 10. Damn you hollie. Damn you and your three reviews. And Anon, you sweet you. Best r&r-er ever. Also, I've been working like a fire on fire on my latest story which I think I want to get married to. You might remember a while back when I asked you what you'd think if I took a day for the Charmed Ones and pulled it apart... well that idea merged and developed with another idea I've had for a long time, and although the hour by hour thing has been completely discarded, the end result is shaping up just brilliantly. Yes guys, even *I* like it, and that's something. I'll probably start posting once this story is done, but the next one is l.o.n.g. I'm telling you. I'm writing chapter 20 and the story has like, just begun. So hope you're ready for the long haul. Thankfully (?) I'll be updating that one every few days once I've started posting it because unlike Psychosis, it'll be mostly written! Also random people I know are starring in it... anyone interested in playing a part? I'd need your real name and a description of yourself, the physical part mostly.  
  
A/N: This is old. Let me correct some of that: I'm now writing chapter 32 of the new story, Psychosis went, not to the next ten, but the next twenty, and damn you Flak for making it so! If there's anyone who I didn't want getting the big one-oh-oh it was you, cos you always get them. Bah. The reviews are wonders of encouragement for me folks, and they really do work. I'm only doing this as a present since you guys helped me hit the 100 mark this early in the game. It's fantastic, really it is.  
  
Congrats to Snowbunny for finishing her wonderfic The Power Of Four. Wow. The girl deserves applause, for real. What a story.  
  
ANYWAY!  
  
Remember what happened last chapter? With the screaming? Yeah.  
  
*  
  
Psychosis  
  
*  
  
Dashing over towards my sisters, I reach out and haul Paige away from Piper's lifeless body. "Oh God... Paige what the hell did you do to her?" I scream, my eyes flooding with tears as I flip Piper onto her back and fall onto her in desolation. Is she even breathing? Is she even fucking breathing? "Piper," I choke, feebly putting my hands on her shoulder and giving her a shake. "Piper! Dammit! Look at me you bitch!"  
  
She's not moving. She's not fucking moving! Why? Why her? Why not...  
  
Cold. I'm so cold. I'm frozen. Slowly, oh so goddamn slowly, I turn, and I look at my fucking halfling sister with the iciest of glares I've ever felt present on my face. "You," I utter, teeth clenched and voice unbearably low. "You did this."  
  
Paige looks back, eyes wide, sweat glistening on her bloodied face. Guilt exhudes her like an odour, I can smell it on her. I can smell her fear and I can smell the anti-innocence on that innocent face. That tarnished face and that tarnished blood that isn't even her blood that is my sister's blood that is my sister's blood and it is all over Paige that murderous bitch!   
  
I'm going to kill her. Oh God, how I am going to kill her. How should I do it? Sharp things? With my own bare hands? Take the cable from that lamp and wrap it around her gangling throat and choke her to death? Thumbs digging into her eyes, ripping teeth, claws in her neck tearing her apart piece by Piper's blood-soaked piece? It all sounds too good for her. Maybe I should drown her. Drown her in that frozen lake Piper fell into once, that would be most fitting.   
  
The rage is so intense I can barely move. Paige just doesn't know what to do with herself. Who even invited her to join this family anyway? She just ruined everything for us! And now it's time to take my revenge on her like she did to me, to beat her into oblivion, until I can't even tell who she is anymore, her face is such a bloody mess. This makes me smile.  
  
Cole is gone, I can tell. Maybe he wanted to give us alone time, or maybe he wanted to stay and watch the fun. I don't even fucking care anymore. Suddenly he doesn't seem so important anymore. Suddenly it seems as if he never was. It feels like he was a big fat mistake. I hate his hairy chest. I hate the way his eyes are so narrow and beady, I hate his tan, I hate the way he sweats, I hate him I hate him I hate him to death!  
  
Everybody, everybody in my miserable life, do I love any of them? Do I love anyone anymore? Or am I just a used shell of a thing, a pathetic, shabby old coat people put on when they're cold?   
  
There's a stirring of movement I notice outwith the corner of my eye: someone walked past the doorway, between here and the hallway. Someone with such a sense of familiarity about them I swear I know who it is.  
  
Without a word, I get up, knowing fully that when I return with whatever object of viloence I find, Paige will still be sitting there. I get up and I follow the person wandering through our house. I know who she is. I haven't seen her yet, but I know who she is. Upstairs. Yes, upstairs I slowly step, and then upwards again, into the attic, where I find her.   
  
She looks so desolate and lonely, so ghostly and lost. She looks so frightened and innocent, and poorly and shameful. "Piper," I say softly, meaning not to shock her. "It's me."  
  
Glancing over at me with her big, deep brown eyes, a tear slips out and I notice how pale she looks, how pale and lifeless. "Phoebe..." she whispers softly. "Help me." Ragged is her breathing, hopeless are her eyes, this is the truth that I despise.  
  
My sister is dead. Piper Halliwell is dead. Once again I let someone so close to me fall victim to that which cannot be stopped, but avoided. She's dead and what am I? I'm a ghost too. Well. Less of a ghost, more of a monster. After all, it was I who killed her.  
  
The next time I look up, there are two Pipers. No... there isn't. There's one Piper and one-  
  
"Prue."  
  
She looks at me, heavenly light resonating from her in a glorius, awe-inspiring fanning of wonder. Her face is solemn, but she smiles as she strokes a hand through my dead sister's semi-transparent hair. "You did your best Phoebe," she says, not because she believes it, but because she has to. Her voice is insincere and unemotional. "Now she's with me. Doesn't that make you happy?"  
  
I see the expression on Piper's face remain. She's emotionless, void. It doesn't make me happy. It makes me scared. "No," I say. "No!"  
  
Sneering at me, at the loser of the Charmed Ones, Prue continues to sweep her hand through Piper's hair and stroke her arms, claiming her as her own. "That's too bad," she smirks. "You let her die, Phoebe. Just like you let me die. And now we're both gone. And we're happier."  
  
"You should join us, Phoebe," Piper speaks, for the first time. "We can be together. Just the three of us, like old times."  
  
"No..." I utter, denial hitting me strong. But I'm so tempted... how bad could it be?  
  
"You remember the old times, don't you Phoebe?" Prue asked. "We had a lot of fun as sisters, didn't we? Now think of your life now. Think of the horrors. And think how you can overcome that. It doesn't take much, Phoebe. Take some pills, take a knife, take a flying leap out of that window-"  
  
"Oh you did that once..." Piper said with familiarity. "That wasn't nice."  
  
"I was just kidding," Prue replied with a smile, then turned back to Phoebe. "See? It's just like how it used to be. Now all we need is you."  
  
"It's the Power fo Three, Phoebe."  
  
"What about Paige?" I stutter.  
  
"Forget Paige."  
  
"Forget Paige!"  
  
"We're all you need now."  
  
Their words take me back to the world I knew. It was a difficult world, it really was. No land is without struggles, but for the most part, I was happy and secure. God, what I'd give for that kind of happiness and security now. I'd give my life. That's what they're telling me to do, to kill myself. Then I could be with them forever.  
  
"Come on, Phoebe," Prue coaxes. "Don't you miss us?"  
  
"I do," I mumble, hot tears stinging my eyes. What have I got to lose anymore?  
  
Their eyes are ravenous as they look at me and convince me to my death.   
  
"Phoebe! She's awake!" comes a voice from downstairs, and I frown, wondering what on earth this could mean. Glancing behind me at the door, when I turn around, Prue and Piper are gone. I realise they weren't my sisters. They were me. With a shriek of fear and horror, I lurch backwards in shock and fall over, landing heavily on my side. I'm too afraid to care, and I scramble away with all my fight, eventually flipping myself onto my front and crawling towards the door while desperately trying to get to my feet.  
  
I trip on my way down the stairs and slip several steps before regaining my balance. As I rush into the living room, I see Paige holding Piper somewhat awkwardly, before Piper makes horrendous wheezing sounds, bounces forwards and bends double over herself and coughs up a mess of thick, stringy blood.   
  
Falling onto my knees, I practically slide over to her and grab her from Paige's hold, soothing her and making small noises. "I'm here, Piper, I'm here. You're okay."  
  
Crying out in pain and anguish, my sister looks at me with miserable eyes. "What happened to me, Phoebe?" she wails. "Why did this happen to me?"  
  
"Oh God Piper," I cry, hugging her towards me in a loving, horrified embrace. She's not talking about her fight with Paige, she's talking about her insanity. She's talking about all of our insanity. "You will get better. You will. I promise."  
  
*  
  
A/N: Well that went A LOT better than I thought it would! Please review guys. You have no idea. Hee, did anyone notice the part that rhymed? 


	10. A Beautiful Bouquet

A/N: Oh, um... let's knock off a list about what's to be wary of. Language, violence and, uh, adult themes... the usual?  
  
A/N: By the way, this one's just insane ;-)  
  
*  
  
Psychosis: Revelations  
  
*  
  
Can you tell me the way to the place where the sweet, sweet redflower grow? To toss and struggle, shrowd and smuggle, all the way unslow. And how in deep my earthy feet could never touch the ground, but in their stead I curse my head and how it's lost, not found.  
  
"I can show you the world," he said, "Shining, shimmering, splendid. Tell me, Jasmine-"  
  
Jasmine! That's the dart! Jaz! She must be sought out and destroyed. It's okay. I have missles. I have imagery. I have the photographs of her still draped over my lover's shoulders as he carried her into the mists of the realms of my unfathomable imagination how could they how could they do this to me? Do I deserve their backs in my face, the casual tossing of the feathers? I'll rip out their fur!  
  
Snuffling in my sleep, I suddenly sneeze on the pollen of that fateful redflower and sit straight up, dead set upon my task. I turn to Phoebe, laying by my side, her arm curled around my hips and hand twitching between my legs. Breathing shyly, I slide down so that her hand shifts up, closer to me. For a moment I sit and gaze at my glistening skin, before rolling over and falling onto the floor.   
  
"Ow," I mutter calmly and adjust my underwear which has come slipping off my shoulder with the sweat. I'm only wearing this. Two items, covering my shame. "Oh, Paige..." I trip over her body and crack my knee on the floor, letting out a muffled yelp. Pain sears through my limb, burning me from the inside, oozing into my leg.   
  
I lean down to kiss her on the lips and trail my tongue ever so lightly down her chin as my left hand creeps onto her stomach and slides over it softly. "Mmm..." she moans in her sleep.   
  
Swallowing, I straighten up and adjust my strap again. Getting to my shaky feet, I wander downstairs and find Prue feeding my baby Melinda out from the bottle in the kitchen. The room is candlelit and beautiful. I wonder about beauty. If we could not see, could beauty be conceived? We would know no visual beauty, thus would such a thing even exist? I bend over to kiss my sister and nuzzle into her shoulder from behind as I look into Mella's face. "She's beautiful," I say.  
  
"There is no such thing as beauty, Piper," Prue tells me scoldingly.   
  
"I know," I reply. "Except you. You're perfect."  
  
"Yes."  
  
I grimace and feel so unholy next to Her. She's everything anybody could ever wish for. She's the light in the room, in my life. I see the way the heat and light from the candles attaches itself to her and I want to be a part of it. "I love you Prue."  
  
"Mmm," she nods and presses her lips together. That there. That's the one thing that's not so perfect about her. Unless it is. Maybe the way she doesn't express as much emotion as the rest of us makes her better. She's always been better. Maybe this is how.   
  
Oh pick me that redflower and taint it with blood, I will prove to you it has no thorn. Scalding and cooling, harsh but so soft, see the nature spike burrow it's scorn. Hooves into me kick, and kick with all their protrusive might, separate my flesh from the air and spit me out over the lake that night.  
  
Walk on my back and twist my nerves, these are the convictions of he who serves. Buckle up tight, higher still, who'd ever thought I could never kill?  
  
"Here," says Prue and I hand her the baby. She takes my little angel and opens the cupboard door, setting Melinda inside. Then she shuts the door and pulls out a lighter. "Gas?"  
  
I nod and produce the small yellow canister I'd bought for under a dollar at the store. "Check," I murmur and slowly empty the contents onto the floor in the immediate surroundings of the door. I pour it on the door too. We have to make sure. "Okay."  
  
With a firm look domineering her features, Prue strikes the match and drops it towards the floor, towards the lighter fluid. The flame quells before it hits the ground. "Oh darn," Prue gripes. "And I'm out of matches!"  
  
"I've got some," I deter and smirk. She's not going to get away with it this time, oh how that little shit isn't. No. Not this time. I flick the edge of the match against the coarse box and watch the flame borne on the sly. Slowly and precautiously, I stoop and feel Prue's leg smooth itself along my naked back. I pause for a moment and press myself into her, feeling how damp I am against the material of her pants. But the fire does not wait, so I drop it onto the floor where it quickly befriends the gas and spreads like, well, like wildfire.   
  
Smoke oozes underneath the door and into Mella's lungs. I smirk in satisfaction.  
  
"Burn, baby burn!" Prue's singing gleefully, and I giggle and join in on the song until a high-pitched wailing infests my ears. Halting, I turn slowly and my eyes meet the door which is slowly burning, smoke blackening the ceiling and floating over towards me. Blinking, when I open my eyes, the place is normal, but the crying remains. Casting a wary glance at my sister, she sends me an encouraging nod. "Go on. Open it."  
  
Sychophancy.   
  
I take a timid step towards the door and open it, expecting to see my charred baby, black as coal, still and quiet. Instead three Halliwells barrell out and over me. "Piper!" I yell as I grab the leg of the third sister. "You cheeky whore!"   
  
She turns and giggles childishly, covering her delicate mouth with her hand as her soft brown eyes glimmer with mirth. "Sorry," she chuckles. "I tripped."  
  
Growling a sigh out, I let go of her and shove her away. Prue greets her with a short hug before sprawling her over the table and moving between her legs. "Did you miss me?" she yells in a murdrous voice. "Huh? Did you?"  
  
Piper, trapped under Prue's hands pressing her down, lets out a high whimper. "Yes! Yes I missed you!" Her face is crushed ever so slightly against the wood of the table, flat on her chest, arms by her side. "Please... let go of me."  
  
Darkened, Prue glares wildly about her at Paige, Phoebe and finally at me. "You!" she points. "Get up!"  
  
I feel so naked and ashamed with them, dressed only in my underwear and skin, and I stand up. All eyes are on me. Prue lets Piper stand and she waveringly runs to join Paige and Phoebe. Beckoning me, Prue nods slowly and I pad towards her. She takes me by the arm and leads me to my sisters where each one in turn kisses me strongly on the lips, their tongues slipping over my own, carassing me. Phoebe is the best kisser. Soft and sensual, hers lingers the most on my mind.   
  
"Take off your bra," Prue commands.  
  
"No..." I reply weakly. "I don't want to."  
  
Paige reaches forwards and quickly flicks the catch of my bra which comes loose. I struggle to cover myself but Piper pulls it off and shoves me away. I stumble, having to throw my arms out for balance, and expose myself.   
  
With a sneering smirk, Paige steps forwards and puts her arms around me, fondling me, touching me so lovingly it's hard to resist. But they belittled me! How can I-  
  
There's that crying again.  
  
"Oh that must be Wyatt," says Piper, and disappears from the room.  
  
The four remaining Charmed Ones exchange confused glances. "But she's Melinda..." I stutter.  
  
"She's nobody. You don't even have anyone Piper," says Phoebe.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Grinding my teeth a little, I accept Prue's cardigan and button it up over my naked chest. She smiles warmly, acceptingly, and I let myself smile back. "Thanks," I say.  
  
"What for?"  
  
Pause. I mull it over. Then I bite my lip and stare into her eyes. "Everything," I say.  
  
She responds by smacking me across the face harder than she could ever hit me before. In the haze of the attack, images blur across my eyes and for a moment I see that redflower dancing in front of me, pulsating strongly, begging me to pluck at it and pierce myself on it's poison once more.   
  
I reach, I really try, to grab it and serrate myself with it's thorns, but I grab at nothing. "Where are you?" I scream as loud as I can. "Where are you?" My cries are getting louder and desperate, building into a filthy climax, where all I can hear is black and all I see is the gushing of violent blood through my ears. I lean back, throw out my head and scream as loudly as I can: "Where did you go?"  
  
"Shh, shh, I'm right here," comes a coaxing voice as I slowly open my aching eyes. "It's okay Piper, it's all right. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."  
  
"Phoebe?" I splutter, choking on the cool air rushing to my throat.  
  
"Yes, yeah it's me," she soothes, stroking a hand along my cheek and down my arm. "You're safe with me, I promise."  
  
"Where's the baby?" comes my laden voice.  
  
There's a pause. "The... baby?"  
  
"Yes," I breathe. "The baby. My baby."  
  
Slowly, Phoebe's face comes into vision's path, and I fixate on her regretful glance. "Piper," she begins softly. "You lost the baby. The baby's dead."  
  
What baby? What fucking baby? Who is this woman? Who is she?   
  
WHO THE FUCK EVEN AM I?  
  
*  
  
*  
  
A/N: I don't think I've ever had as much fun... I always imagine that when it's got a sharp ending like that, it goes 'fwoom' as it cuts to black. So... fwoom. 


	11. Desire's Affirmation

A/N: Talk about the reactions I didn't expect!   
  
A/N: Kit? Revenge shall be mine. By way of this splendiferous chapter! When I say 'spendiferous' I mean 'rubbish'. Please review guys, I'm telling you the only reason I'm not quitting is because I have this stupid notion people want to read it. This isn't just a ploy for reviews, it's the truth.  
  
A/N: By the way this chapter is just sick. I *really* should change the rating. I'm just too fucking lazy. :-P But notice how I can describe sex so graphically and not mention any... 'parts'. Talent? Or just... ew-ness?  
  
A/N: I came back to warn again. This is DISGUSTING.   
  
*  
  
Psychosis: Revelations  
  
*  
  
I twang the elastic band between my fingers again. I've been doing this for hours now. Never seems to get old. The rubber ring is red and thick, and makes a good pinging noise when I stretch it and release. There are many things I would like to release now, many thing that I cannot decipher within myself.  
  
"Hey Paige, we're taking off to the beach for the day. Wanna come?"  
  
"Sure." I get up and follow Piper somewhat reluctantly. When I arrive in the hallway, I don't bat an eyelid to see her body rammed through the banister, thick reams of wood shooting through her flesh, gouging her eyes backwards into her head, still. Nor does it faze me to see Phoebe lying on the ground, the television smashed over her skull, her hair frizzed and black above her head. When I crouch down to look from a lower angle, there is blood streaming from her mouth. That is so cool.  
  
Next I wander on upstairs, into my room. Glen is there. Glen is also dead. I cannot see any cause. Minutes pass, I need a drink. There is a bottle of Tenessee liquor hidden behind my wardrobe, and I retrieve it. The caramel liquid warms my throat. I drink it straight from the bottle. As I have not eaten for two days, the fuzzy feeling hits me within seven minutes. My eyes begin to flutter and I close them for a moment before opening them groggily. Glen is still there.   
  
Rubbing my face wearily, I walk over to his rigid form and slowly remove his clothes. With some difficult, the shirt comes off, and the pants. Immediately it is clear that he was in a state of arousal when he died, and it cannot have been too long ago that it happened. Just seeing it stand there, tall and proud as if he were alive stirs something in me. Something I cannot abate. Something I must fulfil.  
  
He wouldn't mind. He'd have wanted it. One last time.   
  
Mouth lightly open, I bend down and close my lips around it, going deeper until my throat tingles. When I rise, I wipe my mouth and gaze at it's glistening form, before hastily removing my underwear and pulling the material of my skirt up until it's level with my hips.   
  
He's not... really, dead, you know. His body is still warm. His heart might still convulse once or twice, beating out its last. So in a way, he's not really dead. This isn't hugely wrong in that case. In fact, it's not wrong at all, it's right. I'm right. And they're all wrong. Useless bitches.  
  
Before Glen relaxes for the last time, I climb up onto the bed and place my knees on either side of him. Silence innundates me, and I can feel him just lightly touching my own flesh. My breath comes out raggedly as slowly I prepare myself for penetration. And the time comes.  
  
Gently as ever possible, I begin to lower myself down onto him. A choking gasp of air lurches into my mouth as I can even feel, no matter how much warmth reverberates my walls down there, just how cold he is. But rather than turn me away, it spurns me on. His icey touch feels all the more exciting, and I wish to warm him up, to make him burn with fire, the same fire that burns inside me. I want him to scream.  
  
He's about halfway inside me now, and the feeling of arousal never stops. Closing my eyes as I grit my teeth, perfectly in control, I continue to slide down him until my thighs grind against his hips. And my teeth gnaw on his lips. And my passion slowly slips.  
  
"Fucking two dead guys now, huh?"  
  
I stop my rocking back and forth, the gentle lovemaking I was administering so softly, and look over my shoulder. "I didn't really sleep with Leo. That was a dream."  
  
"So's this, who's to say?"  
  
"Well," I begin contemplatively, "if this was a dream, I'd be sticking a knife through your neck right now."  
  
"You already did that."  
  
It's true. Well, not in so many words. But it's true.  
  
"Yeah, you're right," she goes on. "It was more in my back, wasn't it? Or maybe that time you just beat me up and even now I can still barely remain conscious. And to think I actually wanted to give you a chance. Well that's two strikes Paige, two strikes. You get one more and you're out. And I don't mean out of the house. I mean permanently. Now clean up this mess. Look, blood's dribbling onto the bedspread. Who fucking well changed that? I did! So you damn well better fix it!"  
  
I get up, feeling him slither out of me and flopping down onto himself. Next time I look, he's not even there. Leo is. "That wasn't him before-" I start.  
  
She doesn't care for my excuses. She doesn't care about anything remotely to do with me, the sister she never wanted.  
  
And she's going to do everything in her power to make sure that I become the sister she never had.  
  
If only she wasn't already dead.  
  
*  
  
I will never use the word 'slither' again and not think of this day. And guys, if this doesn't turn you off the story, then notng will. If you enjoyed that? You're a bloody sicko. 


	12. The End, Part One

A/N: Bah. I counted and it's four chapters Piper, and four Paige. They break even! Why complain? WHYYYYYYY? But just for you, Shimmersea  
  
A/N: Slitherrrrrrrrrrr.  
  
A/N: Kit? Best review ever. You whore.  
  
*  
  
Psychosis: Revelations  
  
*  
  
A promise means nothing until it's been delivered.   
  
Phoebe promised me happiness. She promised me health. She put up her hands, placed them on her heart and swore to me that things would get better, that the hell that is existance would be over, that the pain would go away. Let me tell you Phoebe, the pain will never go away. It will never go away just like Prue will never come back. It's just one of those things I know. They don't understand how I know things. Guess I can see that; it's supposed to be Phoebe with the precognitive power, not that we even have powers anymore.   
  
Power. Who needs it? Everyone. All those go-getters out there, who do their things and win battles and get money and buy big houses. They need power. We used to win battles. Now it's just one never-ending losing streak. A streak, a smear, a smudge. I'm a smudge. I'm the tiny scratch on the Halliwell plaque that ruined the whole thing. I was the germ, the tiny little virus, on the tip of that needle, in the haystack that was the lives of my sisters and I, and that virus spread. Perhaps I do have power after all.   
  
Who's really to say where true power lies? For me, the one with the most power is still my sister Prue, and she's dead. What the hell does that say for the Charmed Ones if the sister who had, and still possesses, the most power, isn't even alive anymore? She still controls us, makes us act upon what we think she would most approve of.  
  
So many times I've found myself in a situation I'm unsure of how to handle and thought to myself "Now what would Prue do?" and the best part is it's always worked out. We're as well trusting ourselves to trust her, because she's always in the right. It's just the way things are.  
  
We're drawing near to the end of this journey. I can also feel that. I know it will end soon.  
  
You would think, after all the hardship my sisters and I have gone through, that by now we'd be redeemed. That it'd be over. Well, that's four years gone now, and it's still not over. I remember when we first became witches, I was so strongly opposed to the lifestyle I almost quit several times. And perhaps, although I grew to accept myself, almost love my power and the bond it brought to my sisters and I, perhaps that first doubt never fully left me. In fact, I'm sure it didn't. But I ignored it, and buried it deep inside me, never to give a second thought once more. And inside me it must've grown, and festered and matured.   
  
And that's what turned me inside out.  
  
"You've been sitting there for hours, you know." Paige wanders over and sits beside me on my bed. "Just staring. Is there even anything you're looking at?"  
  
"Outside," I mumble in response. Adding, in a whisper: "Always outside." Listening to Paige breathing, I time my own so we go rhythmically. I open my mouth, but then close it again. And then I speak. "Do you think..."  
  
Paige lowers her gaze to the floor. "I don't know," she intones sadly. "I don't think anybody really knows anything anymore, Piper. I think we're lost."  
  
Feeling tears begin to brim at the corners of my eyes, I blink them back and moisten my lips. "Feels like we've been abandoned too," I say. "Not just by each other, but by the people we were supposed to be able to trust. I woulda thought that, I don't know, Mom or... or even Prue, or *someone* could've come to offer their support. Even Leo's just disappeared." My voice is cracking, high and frail. "We're supposed to be married! How can I function after all we went through to get that union and this happens? I feel like I can't trust anymore, that I have no one to rely on because they're either dead or, or just insane."  
  
Paige is crying. Her body heaves with shuddering sobs, but she remains silent.  
  
"How can we go on, Paige?" I implore her. "How can we go on like this? We can't. We have to stop doing this. To ourselves and to each other." My voice fully breaks down as I begin crying desperately, utterly miserable. "I am so sorry I did this to you," I sob. "I never wanted to end up like this. I never wanted to... to lose my mind."  
  
"Piper you still have your mind," Paige suddenly cries. She continues, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's there, it's still deep inside you, because you couldn't be sitting here talking to me like a sane woman if you didn't. You just have to find it, and I have to find mine, and if anything, having something to focus on will pull us through. Please, Piper. Please!"  
  
Sniffing, I relax my shoulders in defeat. "I can't, Paige. I'm so lost and so desolate... I don't think I can ever come back."  
  
She turns to me, her face soaked with tears, the front sections of her hair plastered to her face in strings. "You have to! You have to come back! You have to believe."  
  
"I don't believe in anything anymore," I whisper in a harsh voice. "I don't hope."  
  
"Everybody hopes."  
  
"Hope has forgotten me."  
  
Silence.   
  
Then a scream fills the air, coming from Phoebe's room. Within seconds, Paige and I are there.  
  
It is Cole.  
  
He has struck her.  
  
"Why hello, ladies!" he jeers cruelly upon our entrance. "Little Miss Phoebe here has rejected my marriage proposal on the grounds that," he pauses and raises his hands to air-quote, "she can't leave, her sisters. Well! Do you know what I think about that? Huh? Do you?" Bending down, he grabs Phoebe by the back of her neck and slams her onto the ground. "I think I might have to kill you all!"  
  
"Get out of here, Cole," I warn.  
  
"Oh, what're you gonna do? Blow me up? Hmm, last thing I heard, you guys didn't have your powers! In fact, maybe I should go. Then you guys can have a nice little chat and Paige can beat you all to hell again!"  
  
Something clicks in Phoebe, I can see her physically change. She slowly pulls herself to her feet and wipes the blood from her face. Turning, she stands by us and faces Cole. "I never told you about that," she says in a low voice. "I never told anybody about what she did. I didn't even tell you that we were powerless."  
  
And the same feeling of revelation bursts into Paige and I.   
  
Cole.   
  
"It was you," Paige accuses, her voice still straining with the idea of the man she'd never liked being behind the whole thing. "It was you all along. You did this."  
  
"No," Cole replies. "I merely gave you girls a push in the right direction. That night you thought you saw me in your room, Paige, I was there. The energy I bestowed inside you was to free your mind, just like Piper's. It was to pick out all your bad thoughts and niggling doubts, paranoias, and emphasise them. I didn't touch Piper. She got there all by herself. It was what gave me the idea, a way I could get rid of you both without actually killing you, so Phoebe would love me. If you hadn't already been completely fucked up, it never would've worked. And to this calibre, I'm astounded. The energy wasn't even needed. You were headed straight into crazyville and probably would've hit home to join Piper within a couple of years. I just sped the process up a little."  
  
Phoebe's crying. "You bastard," she growls, her voice callous and mean. "We're gonna kill you."  
  
"Try it," invites Cole.  
  
Turning on her heel, Phoebe faces us. Searching our expressions, she gives each of us a small nod. "You can do it," she mutters.  
  
"I can't," I reply, looking away.  
  
"You can, Piper. It was seperation that took our powers away. All we have to do is trust each other and they'll come back. And it'll all go away. Remember what I said, Piper, about having something to focus on. Cole started the destruction of our spirits. Perhaps he's right when he says he didn't even need to do it. But he's evil all the same."  
  
Glancing at Paige, I swallow the huge lump in my throat and nod. Lining up in our classic formation, we join hands.   
  
Phoebe starts, shakily. "The Power of Three will set us free."  
  
Paige joins. "The Power of Three will set us free."  
  
And slowly, my voice quivering all over the place and cracking, I speak the words. "The Power of Three... will set us... free." But I don't believe it.   
  
Cole's watching us laughingly, jeering and mocking us. "You've lost your powers, idiots," he cries over our pathetic chanting. "You're just human now, just like all the other people I'm gonna kill once I'm through with you!"  
  
"The Power of Three will set us free. The Power of Three will set us free."  
  
As Paige and Phoebe's words get more frantic and more forceful, I begin to feel something of a tremble in their hands. Something magical. "The Power of Three will set us free," I say again, barely in time with them. How can they have so much trust in themselves, in all of us?  
  
"Oh give it up, ladies! You're just prolonging your death!" Cole shouts, getting angry at the relentlessness. Is he starting to get nervous? I begin to chant louder. Suddenly the look on his face is wonder, and his skin visibly pales. "What? No... it's impossible..."  
  
We follow his eyes to the ceiling where two sparkling, golden orbs of light are hovering above Paige and Phoebe's heads. Their powers. "Keep going Piper!" Phoebe cries. "You can do it! Look at our powers, it's working, you just have to believe in yourself."  
  
"Us, believe in us. Believe in the Charmed Ones."  
  
Their words do it. With the knowledge that our union is working, that two thirds of the Power of Three is right within our grasp, I let my chants become a shout. "The Power of Three will set us free!" Our voices rise against Cole's own yells of horror as slowly I start to feel something of a tingle inside my own self.  
  
"You can't do this!" Cole cries. "You lost your powers! You can't!" He charges towards us, but Paige and Phoebe use their free hands to throw out at him, and like a telekinetic forcefield, he cannot come through. He cannot reach us. "Piper! You can't do this! I'm gonna kill all three of you, and I'm gonna make you watch as I slaughter your sisters! I'll make you drink their blood!"  
  
Closing my eyes in terror, I increase my chant. "The Power of Three will set us free! The Power of Three will set us free!"  
  
"That's it Piper! They're coming!"  
  
Startled, I glance up, and see a final set of golden orbs float in. The three of us keep up the chant until suddenly the orbs propel themselves inside us and we absorb our powers. I gasp with the feeling of so much energy shooting into me, and the familiarity of having them back.   
  
"Keep chanting!" Paige urges.  
  
And we do. Our voices whip together like the wind, a torrent of good magic binding Cole rigid, smashing into him and eventually, destroying him.   
  
I watch as he screams his last, his face melting away in the flames that engulf him, exposing his skull and his bones until finally there is nothing left.  
  
He's dead. Cole is dead.  
  
But still I feel so lost and confused.  
  
Paige chokes on her breath and we glace at her, wondering. "I can't orb," she says. "But I... I can hear myself think. I think I'm better."  
  
"Me too," Phoebe adds. "I feel... normal."  
  
Both their attentions turn to me. I meet their gazes, and feel the buzzing of a thousand wasps infiltrate my hearing and dots take over my eyesight. "I can't!" I scream abruptly. "Get away from me! Go!" I reach out to swat at the wasps, feeling their wings flutter against me menacingly, their tiny legs touching against my body. "Get away from me!" I scream loudly, my mouth opening wide, and as I do, the wasps flow inside my mouth and right into my body. I continue to scream animalistically, the wasps zooming throughout my skin, and eventually, when my horror has peaked, collapse suddenly onto the floor.  
  
I float out of my body, above myself, and look down. Paige and Phoebe are crouching by my sides, crying and wailing. "I thought," Phoebe chokes, "I thought she would be better!"  
  
"I know," Paige responds. "But she's still..."  
  
She is still. I am still.  
  
We're still broken.  
  
"We'll get better," Phoebe affirms. "I know we will. I promise."  
  
Okay then, Phoebe. I'll accept your promises and deep down in my heart I will hope fully that you'll make good on what you say. What you promise. Go on, give me happiness and health. Put up your hands, place them on my heart and swear to me that things will be better. Make the pain go away, Phoebe. Promise the pain away.  
  
You can promise all you want, my sister sweet.  
  
A promise means nothing until it's broken.  
  
*  
  
I made up "animalistically", didn't I? Ew, Cole. I'm glad it's not ALL about that whore.  
  
Drawing close to the big End, guys... 


	13. And Into The Fire

A/N: Not long now...  
  
*  
  
Psychosis: Revelations  
  
*  
  
Paige and Phoebe sat at opposite ends of the room. Paige was staring into the fire, watching the flames bounce around the grate, carefree, their soul worry lurking only on when the fuel would run out. When they would have no food. When they had no energy. Bitterly, Paige watched the yellow-hot flames dance and cavort with one another. She had no energy left. It had all been sucked up before, then restored to her in forces and shadows and beams of hope. And then it had been taken away again. Paige was barely even there anymore. And all she could do was stare. Until the fire died. Until it burned out.  
  
Across the room, sitting at the side of the couch on the floor with her back against the armrest, Phoebe silently wept for her lost love. Occasionally a sniffle would escape her throat and her ears would burn with embarrassment in case Paige overheard her, but eventually it became clear that Paige was oblivious to everything around her but the intoxicating, hynoptic flames. This suited Phoebe just fine, but she'd really rather be alone. Then again, to be alone, she'd have to be upstairs. With her.  
  
The eldest of the Charmed Ones, or the componants thereof, hadn't left her room for three days. Hours after Phoebe and Paige placed a tray with a small meal outside her door, it was still there, untouched and cold. And there was nothing they could do. Hadn't they already exhausted their options? They'd tried coaxing her, they'd tried forcing her, and they'd almost succeeded with simply being her sisters, but in the end, Piper's insanity won through time and time again. Wasn't it just time to give up?  
  
Reflected in Paige's eyes were the flames leaping around, crackling like the voices in her head, the ones telling her that she wasn't good enough, that she'd never be good enough, and that nobody would ever love her as much as-  
  
The Matthews girl let out a loud sigh, just to drown out the next word. She didn't need to hear it to know just how true it was. In honesty, she wasn't sure if she could handle hearing it anymore. The sound of Phoebe crying in the corner was painful enough, and Paige wondered briefly why it was annoying her.   
  
Eventually, she let the depths of the fire consume her once more, and descended back into oblivion.  
  
Phoebe's quiet whimpering stopped somewhat abruptly, but that wasn't what alerted Paige to his presence. She felt him arrive, inside her. A tingling, or a buzzing, within her. She truly sensed him. But she didn't realise this until it didn't even matter anymore.   
  
"She's upstairs."  
  
It took Paige a few minutes to work out who'd said those two words. She barely even recognised her own voice anymore. But that didn't matter. Paige didn't feel like she would be talking ever again. There was no one worth talking to. And it wasn't even as if she was worth it either.  
  
Six long weeks had passed since Leo had last called.   
  
When Phoebe started crying again, Paige knew he had gone.  
  
He served as a cold reminder that the world was still going on around them, and that there was still good. And that there was still evil. But what about the evils in the manor? The insidious, creeping, plaguing evil that had infected Piper and clung onto her ribcage until she could barely breathe? What about the evil that you can't battle?  
  
Upstairs, Piper ignored the three soft knocks on her bedroom door. She was lying on her bed, pillows fluffed up behind her, staring at the wall. She never realised how interesting a wall could be. Well, perhaps not the wall itself, but what it liberated her to do. It was a blank canvas on which she could paint pictures with her thoughts. It was creativity and it was clear.   
  
"Can I come in?" came a voice that Piper did not recognise.   
  
And when he came in, Piper did not recognise the man who owned it either. She stared at him blankly, as if he could be no more than a stranger from the street. Leo could tell from her face the moment he walked in that she just had no idea who he was.   
  
"Piper," he began, and sat gently on the bed. He could feel her body tense up at his closeness. Sighing, he turned and looked into her eyes. "I've come to tell you myself that, that it's over. The Elders hoped that with the Power of Three coming together to defeat Cole that you would stick together, but unfortunately your illness has proved much deeper than just a demonic spell."   
  
Pausing, the whitelighter cast an eye dubiously over the wall, wondering why his wife appeared to find it so intriguing. Like the wall, his mind drew a blank.  
  
Moistening his lips before facing her again, Leo continued. "I've been reassigned," he said airily, trying not to sound emotional, because she wouldn't understand why. "They think that you're off the demonic radar too, that the three of you will be safe from now on. That's pretty great huh? Just... just what you always wanted."  
  
After a hefty silence, Piper relaxed her shoulders and leant back into the pillows. "Yes," she said curtly.  
  
"I remember overhearing you say it so many times in the past, and the amount of times you came this close to giving it all up anyway... so... don't look at this as if it's a bad thing, you know?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Maybe you should look at it like it's a gift. Like now you have time to spend with your sisters. To reacquaint yourselves. To just, you know, get to know each other all over again, and for Paige, properly."  
  
"Yes."  
  
Leo swallowed tightly and stood up. Stooping down briefly, he paused before lightly kissing her forehead, wincing as she twitched under his touch, and then stepped back. "I have to go now," he said.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Silently, Leo made his way towards the door. Before he left, he looked over at her once more. "Goodbye Piper," he whispered, his voice thick and wavering. "I love you," he added tearfully under his breath. "With all my heart."  
  
He looked up to the ceiling at Them, with burning, bittered eyes, clenching and baring his teeth in an animal snarl, enraged at this separation but all the same feeling so redundant that he knew not even magic could heal their relationship, or Piper's mentality, and orbed out.  
  
When he finally left, Piper glanced over at the door with an expressionless face, and she knew the one thing most important in the world to her had just walked away.  
  
*  
  
A/N: Pretty sure next chapter is the second last, yo. Review me proud ;-) Flames accepted, since they concede with the title and general theme of this chapter, heh. 


	14. Penitance

A/N: It's funny cos it's short.  
  
*  
  
Psychosis: Revelations  
  
*  
  
Rat ta ta. Rrrrat ta ta. Tara tarah. Farrah sha la la la.   
  
In the garden I stand while airing my hand and swiftly I call to the birds in the fall for what reason with all due respect I must stall while smacking the wall my face hidden in shawl and I call and I call and I call and I call and I call but to nothing at all.  
  
Is a plant that isn't a tree but is taller than me still a shrub? It's some sort of exotic bush, as far as I can tell, the leaves are more solid and sharp. And as I stand beside it, just staring into the green, I press my left shoulder into one of the jaunting, stabbing leaves and attempt to break the skin with it. And rightly so. Why shouldn't I see what else in this world hates me?   
  
But the leaf is weak. Weaker than I. It crumples and twists and flicks to my thigh.  
  
I don't care. That's fine. It can reject me too like Leo did, and like those two girls are coming to do right now. Oh yes, I know they are, here they come, here they-  
  
Closing my eyes, I wince and wait for them to appear, to yell at me with all their might or to simply put on brave faces and attempt to nice-talk me around into the sanitarium with their 'reason' and their 'negotiation' and their damn 'clarity'. They think I'll respond to that? Do they have the audacity to even believe I would consider listening to their pisstake of what humans should behave like? Humans shouldn't behave! Humans shouldn't be!  
  
Nothing comes. Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps they've given up on me fully. Perhaps I'll be left alone now.  
  
"Piper?" comes a timid voice from behind me.  
  
Perhaps I was wrong.   
  
Spinning on my heels, I deliver a sharp smack to the jawline of the speaker. A whirl of red waves turning through the air alerts me as to who it was as the... younger of the girls, the milky-skinned one, slaps onto the ground, crying out more in shock than pain. I must've hit her harder than expected.  
  
The other one's eyes become wild with fury, or fear, as she glances first at the girl on the ground, then into my eyes. I spark no recognition for her features. She throws a hand out, palm facing me, and goes into a defensive posture. "Piper," she begins in a calm warning voice, "just relax, okay? We're not gonna hurt you. Calm down and we won't hurt you, I swear."  
  
My response to this reasonable, clarified negotiation is to once again twist my body around, this time bringing my leg up in order to connect it with the girl - Phoebe's - stomach. But my action is not unforseen.  
  
Phoebe catched my leg and before I can react, turns my foot against the bone and forces me to spin with it. Before I know it, I'm lying face down in the dirt, and my sisters are bearing down on my back. Arms are ripped up from where they were sprawled in front of me and held taught behind my back, ligaments screaming and also my mouth.  
  
"Get her indoors before the neighbours see!" Phoebe urges the redhead, and then that sickening feeling of orbing overcomes me as my vision goes white before we appear in my very own bedroom. But this time it is different.  
  
As I writhe on the mattress and attempt to escape, the redhead punches my chin hard enough to daze me while they chain my hands and feet to the shackles now screwed onto the bedposts. "What are you doing?" I shriek in horror, truly terrified for my life.  
  
No reply. Instead, once the job is done, they step back sweatily and admire their handiwork; their own sister bound to her bed, helpless and vulnerable. Their own blood twisting and writhing in rage, desperately attempting escape and for what? Amusement? Is that what I am? Just a toy for them to play with whenever boredom calls?   
  
I turn around and pluck at a flower, a pink one with huge, billowing petals. It begins to grow and grow in my hand until soon its weight I cannot bear.   
  
I wonder about my sisters, how I used to trust them, how I used to love them, and how they conspire to slaughter me. I consider the gore and horror that is my day-to-day life. I miss it. Vengeful, I slit my eyes and stare around the garden for something to pain. Something to force and torture and terrorise. Yet, nothing ever appeases me.  
  
And my thoughts are so irrational I want to pull my own brain out and eat it.  
  
* 


	15. Goodbye Myself, Sisters

... the last chapter is finished. This is the second last. Warning for, well, sick bits. And probably some bad language. Tut.  
  
*  
  
Psychosis: Revelations  
  
*  
  
Paige looked over at Phoebe, who was staring back. Her eyes looked wild and accusing. Paige was afraid. The two sisters had restrained Piper and strapped her down onto her bed. But now what? Piper was tearing viciously at her bindings like a ferocious beast and it really looked like there was no calming her.   
  
Biting her tongue gently, Phoebe lay down beside Piper and sighed deeply. "I have something for you," she intoned sullenly. Piper seemed to abate, and the middle sister sat up. Reaching onto the floor, she brought up a cup of yoghurt and held it up with a grimace. "Peach," she mumbled. "Your favourite."  
  
Instantly Piper's face spread into a wide, maniac grin. "Pheebsie!" she exclaimed. "Do you remember that time I poured-"  
  
"Peach yoghurt down my back," Phoebe finished. "Yes, I do." She watched sadly as peals of laughter overtook her sister, and the little hope she had left slipped from her body like a cold rag. "Goodbye, Piper."  
  
The eldest Halliwell turned and looked at Phoebe seriously. "Are you going somewhere?" she asked curiously.  
  
Phoebe simply shook her head and then with a twist of her hand, undid one of the ropes around Piper's right wrist. "Untie her other hand," she instructed Paige, who did so wordlessly. Offering Piper the yoghurt, Phoebe watched as her sister shoveled the food into her mouth using only her fingers. "You like that?" she asked.  
  
Nodding frantically, Piper sniffed airily and threw the empty cup at Paige. "Why did you tie me down?"  
  
"Because you're crazy."  
  
"I'm older than you."  
  
"Yes. You are." Suddenly Phoebe felt heavy. She looked up at Paige and saw the tears of grief on her sister's face and knew she was feeling the same way. Loss swept through her soul, like an early undercurrent, and she broke down into tears. "I'm so sorry," she spluttered breathelessly. "I'm so sorry I couldn't help you."  
  
For a moment Piper looked confused, but the expression absolved itself into a grimace. She looked at her sister Phoebe, then Paige, and scowled at them with spiteful hate. "Why couldn't you help me?" she said. "Why?"  
  
Phoebe's head snapped up at the sudden tone, and clarification of Piper's voice. "Wh-what?"  
  
Piper stared at her sister accusingly. "It's a simple question, Phoebe, and I'm asking for a simple answer! Why couldn't you help me? Why wouldn't you?"  
  
Mouth agape, Phoebe sat up from her sunken position on the floor and tried to overcome her shock. "I-" she began, faltering.  
  
"You what?"  
  
"I..." Phoebe didn't know what to say. She had tried. She had done everything. She had done everything possible in the human and magical world to make Piper better. She had! Hadn't she...?  
  
The youngest sister didn't know what to do with herself. Paige paced, wrung her hands, and chewed up her cheeks from the inside. She had never felt so out of place. Well, she had. Always the same people, the same situations, everything the same, the same old thing. She wished Prue had never died. She wished she had died instead. It would save her this torture.   
  
Paige weighed eighty-seven pounds. She had punished herself physically, believing that the whole situation was her fault. She cut herself and exercised until her lungs felt red raw from the breathing, and even then she wouldn't stop. She looked like a skeleton, with sunken eyes and hollow cheeks. Her breasts had gotten smaller, her hips and shoulders stuck out oddly when she wore anything that clung to her. Nobody had noticed her drastic, tragic change in appearance.  
  
"You left me," Piper spat, her eyes glinting venom. "You left me, just like the rest did."  
  
"I didn't leave you, Piper!" Phoebe protested.  
  
For a moment, Paige felt like jumping in and yelling at Phoebe too. Why was she trying to get out of her fair share of the blame? Was Phoebe leaving to Cole Paige's fault too? Paige thought about it. It was. It was her fault. She had attacked Phoebe and driven her out.   
  
Piper leapt up and shoved Phoebe backwards, sprawling her sister over the floor. "You left me Phoebe, you left me and you'll do it again! I know you will! You're a fucking coward!"  
  
"I'm the coward?" Phoebe screamed, covering her head quickly as Piper aimed a kick right at her face. She scrambled to her feet and pushed Piper onto the bed, before clambering on top of her and pinning her down. "Me? I'm the one who went totally insane on her family and took everybody else down with her? You just scuttled back into yourself, Piper, into your own fucked up world, and you didn't give a shit about just how much heartbreak you'd put us through, did you? All you wanted was to be in a place where Prue was alive! Didn't you? Tell me Piper, who's the real coward here?"  
  
Suddenly Phoebe's hands were at Piper's throat, her thumbs digging in to the soft neck as she furiously strangled her sister. Her eyes were shining fire and her teeth bared in agony. When Piper began to choke, she let go and sat up, her hips resting on Piper's stomach. Tears began to slip down her cheeks.   
  
As more started falling, she looked down at Piper mournfully. "Why didn't you take me with you, Piper?" she sobbed. "Why couldn't I come?"  
  
"I'm sorry," Piper shuddered, regret filling her voice. "I'm so sorry."  
  
"All I wanted... all I wanted was to see her again. And you, you got to see her all the damn time. When do I get to see her?"  
  
"You will," Piper whispered. "You just have to believe..."  
  
Paige hadn't realised she was sitting on the floor. She hadn't noticed the cold sweat on her brow. She didn't know that she hadn't blinked in the past five minutes. Her expression hadn't even flinched. She was horrified. They didn't even know she existed. More; they had taken her life from her, and they hadn't even acknowledged that she'd done anything at all. They'd taken everything, they'd killed her. And nothing.   
  
She couldn't breathe.  
  
She didn't want to.   
  
With a quick movement, Paige had grabbed the protection athame they'd put in Piper's drawer in the beside table and held it poised, ready to plunge into her stomach. She wasn't subtle enough, however, and attention was quickly gained.  
  
"Paige, no!" Phoebe screamed, and rolled off Piper, landing on the floor in utter panic.   
  
But it was too late. Paige leapt backwards out of Phoebe's path. They weren't having a hold on her anymore. Oh no. Paige could stop it. She could make it all go away. It's time to make it go away Paige, it's time to make it leave. I know. I know. I'm doing it. Hurry up. I am! Do it! I will! I'm doing it!  
  
With that, Paige thrust the athame towards herself and awaited the pain of the metal piercing flesh, organ, perhaps bone. Nothing came. When she opened her eyes a few moments later, the dagger was gone and Piper and Phoebe were staring at her, open-mouthed. "What happened?" she asked, bewildered.  
  
Wordlessly, Phoebe pointed shakily at the athame lying on the other side of the room. "It just... flew out of your hands..."  
  
Paige said nothing, trying to contemplate what had just happened. The sisters didn't notice Piper reaching down and picking up the blade. "How do you mean... flew?"  
  
"I mean flew. One minute it was there, about to... and the next, it jumped out of your hands and flew over there. Like it was, telekine-" Phoebe cut herself off. It was impossible, telekinesis. None of them had that power. The only one who did was dead. There was no way that Prue could ever have, was there? She couldn't have, could she? Slowly, Phoebe's eyes connected with Paige's and they shared a moment of wonder.  
  
Then Paige's eyes flickered past Phoebe and onto the bed. Immediately her face went blank; what she saw she couldn't react to. Phoebe saw this and spun around on the floor, her eyes widening in horror at the sight on the bed. "Piper..." she gurgled, barely able to whisper the word.  
  
Sitting gleefully on the mattress, bouncing playfully, Piper Halliwell giggled as she held up her right wrist for all to see. Thick red blood swam down it, pouring from the severed artery, sliding down her skin and onto the bedsheets. "Look at it!" Piper sang. "Looooooooook!" She held up the glistening wet blade and dug it into her other wrist, barely even wincing. She felt no pain.  
  
"Piper, oh my god," Phoebe cried. "Please!"  
  
She got to her feet but Piper was too fast. Before she even knew what was happening, Piper was holding the athame at her own throat. "Uh uh, little sister. You have to wait your turn."  
  
Phoebe was wretched again. "Piper," she pleaded, "you're bleeding."  
  
The eldest giggled again. "It's warm," she said in a satisfied voice. "I like it." She grinned maniacally at Phoebe before cutting her throat. She died instantly, more blood spewing from the gaping wound in her neck. Her body flopped backwards onto the bed, contorted at a strange angle, and the knife slid from her grasp, lying calmly beside her head. 


End file.
